


Give Me All Of Your Attention

by unfinishedpages



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Architect Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Badly Written Smut in part 2, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Student Kim Jongin | Kai, Weird attempt at a sugar daddy au because they dated before the whole shebang, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 05:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20791202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfinishedpages/pseuds/unfinishedpages
Summary: Jongin gets the offer of a lifetime, and after some careful deliberation, he accepts.





	1. All this hard work (No Vacation)

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively: Kyungsoo has a lot of money to burn, and he has no qualms in making reasonable investments.
> 
> Title from Kim Petras' I Don't Want It At All
> 
> Ages for clarification;  
KS: 33 in the flashbacks, 35 at present.  
JI: 22 in the flashbacks, 24 at present.

Jongin could feel his chest heave with deep, almost stuttered breaths, the own pulse booming in his ears as the rough grip on his hips changes into something gentler, calloused fingertips running up his thighs almost cautiously as a pair of soft, soft lips make their trail of slow, sticky sweet kisses up the length of his neck to his lips, swallowing a whine from his own. 

The keen that rips itself from his throat at the teasing nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip is enough to make his entire body flush with embarrassment, head-spinning against the few thousand-thread count sheets he’s probably ripped holes into with his nails, but the slow chuckle from the person above somehow acts as a balm for his fried nerves.

“That’ll probably bruise, I’m sorry.” The person mumbles against the tender skin on his hip and thighs, running his tongue on the jut of Jongin’s hips. The room is quiet, save for the mingling of the shortness of their breaths, his eyes blinking slowly in the dim lights of the room, the lines of tension fizzling from under his skin and his legs falling open against the sheets. 

He could feel the stickiness of drying lubricant and release between his legs, the soreness of his muscles and the soft, heated, and rousing kisses pressed onto blooming hickeys and teeth marks dotted along the golden skin on the inside of his thighs. 

Jongin reaches out to push at a solid, naked shoulder as he shakily rises on his elbows. “Sensitive,” He rasps out, pushing the older man’s fringe out of his face as he rests his fingers on their nape, lungs rattling inside his ribs with the intensity of his breathing. “Later.” Jongin manages to say before he drops back to the pillows, in an attempt to steady his breathing. 

“Okay, okay.” Jongin hears his reply before he hears the telltale sound of ripping plastic, but nothing prepares him for the cold wipe gliding down his overheated skin, making him curl into himself with a sharp hiss from clenched teeth. “Should’ve warned you, sorry, baby doll.” Came the soft apology—a slow drip of thick honey, warm and overwhelmingly sweet—in a kiss pressed onto his knee, before wiping his belly and inner thighs clean.

“Was I too rough tonight?” Jongin looks where he’s standing at the foot of the bed, somewhat decent in a pair of pyjama pants. He offers Jongin a glass of water to soothe his throat, and Jongin almost preens at the fingers carding through his sweaty hair as he sips at the water gingerly. “No, I liked it,” Jongin replies, handing the glass back. “It’s just—it’s been a while.”

“Didn’t expect things to feel that intense, or for you to be that pent up.” He murmurs as he stares at the other under his lashes, face flushing at the amused quirk of the other man’s eyebrows. “You had your showcase, baby, and I had to work. I didn’t mind waiting.”

Jongin’s breathing has calmed down now, already making a move to grab his pyjama top from the floor and somehow, his underwear, off the headboard and slipping them on. “You definitely made the three months of waiting worthwhile, Kyungsoo.” 

Kyungsoo lets out an amused burst of air from his nose, thumbing the cartilage of Jongin’s ear. “You and I certainly earned it, haven’t we?” He says, leaning down to press a kiss onto Jongin’s temple, but as he pulls away, Jongin sees the beginnings of a frown on his handsome face. 

Needless to say, it makes his stomach drop down to the basement of the villa, and back to Kyungsoo’s bedroom on the second floor. “Is...is something wrong?” He whispers, unable to gauge the look in Kyungsoo’s eyes. 

“Is this a new piercing?” Kyungsoo asks, gently tipping Jongin’s head towards him for a better look. Jongin’s right ear indeed had a new piercing in the outer cartilage lining the curve of his ear, the mismatched studs and hoops shining in the lowlights of the room. “Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it.” Jongin whispers, hesitant about his answer. 

“No need to apologise, I just didn’t recognise the earring.” He says, reassuring Jongin. Face unreadable, before he’s smoothing the silver strands from Jongin’s forehead and tying it back with a black hair tie. “Do you want anything to eat? I’ll order in,” He asks, the familiar warmth back in his eyes as he walks towards the door of his bedroom. 

“Chicken would be great.” Jongin grins at Kyungsoo shaking his head at his answer. “As predicted. Clean up, Jongin. I’ll come get you when it’s here.”

—

After a thorough shower and the long routine slathering himself in the expensive toiletries Kyungsoo keeps for him in a separate drawer in his en suite bathroom, Jongin finds himself sitting on the opposite side of the couch, his legs stretched over Kyungsoo’s lap as they finish the bowl of chips balancing precariously on Jongin’s shins, and his glass of wine is somewhere on Kyungsoo’s numerous side tables nestled beside the other chairs.

They’re watching a western show—one of Kyungsoo’s guilty pleasures outside the rigid schedules of his day job—that Jongin barely understands the plot of, much less the quick American accents of the cast. 

It’s quite evident though that Kyungsoo enjoys it when Jongin sees him chuckling under his breath at the detective making his criminal line up sing an old song from the ’90s, the bright light of Kyungsoo’s massive television reflecting on the lenses of his turtle shell frames. 

The bowl of chips on Jongin’s thighs soon becomes empty, and Kyungsoo’s chiding remarks about Jongin’s oily fingers fall on deaf ears as they’re drowned out by Jongin’s incessant giggling brought about the thousand-dollar bottle of wine Kyungsoo saves for him at times like these. 

Jongin makes the conscious decision to move the breakable kitchenware off his lap and onto the table, manoeuvring the older man onto the couch, making him rest his upper body on an armrest before promptly plopping his entire body onto him, resting his head on Kyungsoo’s chest. “Oh,” Kyungsoo says, Jongin feeling the beginnings of his laughter rumbling in his chest. “This isn’t how I expected you manhandling me to end.”

Kyungsoo’s chin is digging into the crown of Jongin’s head, his nose nudging against Kyungsoo’s sternum, but Jongin enjoys the warmth despite the discomfort of the firmer cushions of the couch. “Let me nap, then I'll be good to go again later,” Jongin says, tangling their thighs together and sighing at the silk of Kyungsoo’s pyjama bottoms against his bare legs. 

A large hand rests itself on the swell of Jongin’s ass, trailing up and down on his back before fingers curl lightly into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. “So now you’re the one making demands, baby doll?” Kyungsoo’s voice has now dropped, the familiar heated pet name making Jongin squirm in his grip. 

The hand resting on his nape migrates back to his ear, and the show playing on TV seems to be the last item on Kyungsoo's list of priorities. “I don’t like this one on you.” Kyungsoo says, referring to the lone stud lining his ear. “Can’t exactly have it returned, Soo.” Jongin mumbles against his shirt. Kyungsoo lets out an amused huff at his reply. “I meant, the stud doesn’t suit you. When can you replace it?”

“Couple of weeks, a month maybe. Have to ask Jongdae-Hyung to be sure.” Jongin cocks his head up to meet eyes with Kyungsoo, whose hands are on the younger's jaw, turning him this way and that. “How many do you have again?”

Jongin sits up, straddling the older man and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “On my ears?” he asks, already counting the hoops lining his ears.

He feels one of Kyungsoo’s hands up his thighs and slipping under his shirt, thumbing the barbell on his chest. After all their boundaries had been laid out in clear lines before each other, Kyungsoo turned out to be one to never beat around the bush, intents clear in his words and actions.

Sometimes, it's a curse, some—a blessing. 

Often, it's the gift that keeps on giving. 

Especially when Kyungsoo's mouth could have him flushed and speaking in tongues in a matter of minutes, with all the filth he was capable of whispering into Jongin's skin.

“Anywhere applicable, baby doll.” The slow, teasing circles Kyungsoo is leaving on one of his pierced nipples, the implication on his tone is enough to warm Jongin's entire body and the entire room. 

"I," Jongin breathes, eyes fluttering shut and jaw slacking at the gentle flicks to his piercing, cock already half hard in his boxers. "I have ten." He grits out, hands flying up to Kyungsoo's shoulders and hips already rutting against the older man's belly. 

Kyungsoo doesn't even seem fazed in the slightest, dark eyes boring into Jongin, thumb still measured in its ministrations. Though the impatient press of Kyungsoo's lips on his collarbone and arousal pressing against his ass may prove otherwise. "Including this one?"

Jongin takes a minute to answer his question, blinking through the haze of arousal as Kyungsoo grips his waist hard enough to tether him back to reality. "Y—yes." Jongin reaffirms, nodding wildly. 

"You'd look pretty in a matching set, baby doll," Kyungsoo says, hands already busy with unbuttoning Jongin's pyjama top and sliding it off the younger's shoulders. "Would you like that? Would you like to be pretty for me, Jongin?"

Kyungsoo presses their lips together, licking into Jongin's mouth and sucking on his tongue hard enough to wrench a whine from Jongin's throat. "Anything for you, Daddy." Jongin gasps in between breaths, wrapping an arm around Kyungsoo's neck to anchor himself as he ruts against the older man with abandon.

Somehow, after the events that transpired in Kyungsoo’s living room, they ended up back in the older man’s bedroom. The space beside him hasn’t been vacant for too long, as he vaguely registers the sound of the shower turning off in the en suite, and the low screech of clothing hangers being pushed around on a rack. 

Jongin spares a look at the digital clock on Kyungsoo’s side of the bed, grunting in irritation at having woken up this early. He hears Kyungsoo laugh on the other side of the room before a kiss is pressed onto the bare skin of his shoulder peeking above the sheets. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.” Jongin mumbles, pulling the thick blanket over his head and turning his back away from the sunlight seeping in through the drapes. Sleep comes easy, and very much welcome with Jongin’s exhaustion. 

The months of preparation had paid off for Jongin, his evaluation sheet after his final showcase had been returned to him filled with glowing remarks from both mentors and professors. He could almost say he could bounce back after the long hours of practice and copious amounts of liniment to his injuries.

Jongin wakes up a couple of hours later, blinking in the late morning later as he manoeuvres himself off the bed and into the kitchen for something to eat. He spots a yellow post-it on the microwave door, skimming through Kyungsoo’s familiar script. 

_ Didn’t want to wake you before I left. _

_ The pantry is at your disposal, _

_ but you’re free to order in if you’d like something else. _

He manages to summon the motor skills to make some toast, nibbling on it thoughtfully as he scrolls through his social media and answering a few snooping texts from Baekhyun. Jongin also makes the mistake of attempting to hike his thigh onto the barstool, which makes him hiss at the twinge from his sore thighs, and instead settle for the couch on the living room.

Kyungsoo really did a number on him last night, didn’t he? Jongin mulls over as he lifts his leg, inspecting the skin of his thighs below the hem of his loaned pair of boxers briefs, pressing a finger against darkening hickeys and teeth marks in his inner thighs. 

He didn’t even want to think about ones on his hips and waist right now, thanking his lucky stars that he wouldn’t need to be in thin vests and dancing tights anytime soon with his final showcase done and over with. 

School had already had his way with him, and Kyungsoo clearly had his way last night. Jongin thought it would be appropriate to forward his concern to the guilty party, snapping a picture of his bare thighs hooked onto the back of the seat, even letting a cheeky sliver of skin peek above the band of his underwear, the golden stitching of the brand bright in the sun.

_ You had fun last night. _

_ [Image Attached] _

** **

_ Behave yourself, _

_You're one to talk._

Kyungsoo sends him an image of his bare back in what seems to be his bathroom from his this morning, the pale skin marred with scratches in two sets of four across his back. Jongin zooms into the red splotch on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, face burning when he remembered biting down on it in a valiant attempt to muffle his moans last night. 

_ So, uh. _

_ Where do you keep your nail clippers? _

_ Bathroom. Last drawer on the left by the sink. _

His phone pings with another notification from Kyungsoo.

_ The soothing cream is in the drawer above that. _

_ I was supposed to help you put it on, _

_ but you were still asleep, and you hate how cold it is. _

Jongin knew from experience that Kyungsoo can be an incredibly gentle lover, lips soft against Jongin’s in the heated haze of slow, unrushed sex, hips flush with Jongin’s for what felt like hours until he had been left dizzy with want, unravelled and undone at the seams underneath Kyungsoo.

There are also nights where Jongin is made aware of the sheer strength Kyungsoo keeps hidden in the coil of muscles on his body, nights like those either take weeks of planning or happen in a matter of seconds. Nights where Kyungsoo is incredibly rough, where he takes and takes and takes until Jongin is crying as he comes, clinging to him helplessly while he’s fucked deeply into the bed.

Nights where Jongin sobs around the iron tight grip of Kyungsoo’s hand around his jaw when he takes him from behind, whining at the absolute filth Kyungsoo whispers in his ears, punctuated with deep grunts that make Jongin burn when he recalls them out of the blue. 

Jongin lets him do what he wants every time those nights come about, like last night—encourages it even, screaming himself hoarse as Kyungsoo thrusts hard enough to dent the drywall above the bed, punching the air out of his lungs; he eggs him on, taunting him even though the oversensitivity, indulging himself on this rarity with Kyungsoo. 

After all, Jongin enjoys both sides of sleeping with Kyungsoo—enjoys the juxtaposition of his demeanour in bed. Kyungsoo is nothing but sweet and courteous with him outside their coital activities, and Jongin has been spoiled too long, all too aware of the fact that Kyungsoo would never refuse him within reason.

Now, Jongin hasn’t always lived a life of waking up to an entire villa to himself or sipping wine more expensive than a month of rent in his shitty apartment. Nor has he made a habit of being fucked breathless for the second time in an evening, on a rug that probably cost as much as an entire semester in the university he attended.

He wasn’t fed with a silver spoon in his mouth in his adolescent years.

He certainly wasn’t born in the lap of luxury, but these days, he spends his days bouncing on someone else’s lap, legs splayed open and back arched in chase of release in a glass-walled villa, all in exchange for a little bit of luxury. 

In other words—quiet, unassuming Dance Major Jongin was a Sugar Baby, and the man who had chastised him over his oily lips and fingers was his Sugar Daddy, Kyungsoo.

Their relationship also transpired beyond monetary gifts in exchange of providing sexual favours, after all, they had dated a short while to get to know each other due to Kyungsoo’s strict selectivity in people before they had agreed on their new setup, that has now lasted since Jongin’s junior year in university.

While he spends his free time in Seoul spoiling Jongin both inside and outside his villa in Hannam-dong, Kyungsoo maintains his sky-high credit limit, and his title as one of every major bank’s most sought after client by heading one of the top architectural firms in the country as a senior partner of DKP & Associates. 

Kyungsoo often jokes that he mostly argues with development engineers over large scale projects at work, but Jongin knows most architects don’t collaborate with Emirati sheikhs in designing one of the most famous skylines in the world.

His exposure to this sort of lifestyle had been his best friend in college, Baekhyun, a sophomore who he got along like a house on fire in his freshman year in his former major in their cinderblock of a dorm room, almost two years ago. 

Jongin had since then filed for a transfer in a performing arts academy in place of pursuing the rest of his Literature degree, restarting his dance career at the age of twenty while Baekhyun had taken the time to graduate from business school at twenty-one.

Baekhyun, with his larger than life personality and booming voice, freely flaunting that he had paid all of his current student loans one evening while Jongin had been slumped on their lumpy couch nursing a swollen ankle, squeezing Jongin’s shoulders so tight in glee. 

Amid Baekhyun’s excited chatter, he had only managed to catch a handful of words from him that shocked Jongin. 

“Wait, you slept with your sugar daddy?” Jongin asked, quickly withdrawing his injured foot out of the way before Baekhyun had planted himself beside him. “How–since when did you have one? Baek, you sure that’s safe? What if he’s just an old pervert plotting to kill you?”

Baekhyun’s reply was quick to arise in the form of him shoving his phone on Jongin’s face. Jongin had pushed his hand away to stare at a good-looking man in a suit in a city in Europe; platinum blond, cheek dimpling as he smirked into the camera. 

A wild child with money—exactly Baekhyun’s type. “He’s thirty-three. Hardly old, believe me. Plus, I haven’t been found dead in a ditch yet, haven’t I?” 

Jongin winces at the thought, terrified of when Baekhyun's fearlessness will bite him in the ass. “He’s also eleven years older than you. What if he’s married, B?”

“Nope. I naver-ed the living hell out of him before I even agreed to meet up for dinner, he’s a typical trust fund baby, but with an actual brain to make his own money. Jesus, Jongin. I think I could've bought this entire building with his _ 'thank you gift' _ after we met up for dinner.” Baekhyun explained, shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn't even know my online banking account could generate that many zeros."

“What about an equally rich fiancée who may not be too keen about him fucking a twenty-two-year-old law student?” Jongin asked, choosing to rest his leg on their coffee table piled high with Baekhyun’s law books and other reading materials. 

Baekhyun grinned at him—dauntless, with a glint of wild mischief in his eyes that one day may pay off in court. Jongin knew there was no knocking Baekhyun off that boat anymore with that familiar determined curl of his lips. “That’ll be his problem, Ninibear. I'm just there for the massive ride he is.”

— 

A year later after their initial discussion, Baekhyun quickly raised the idea of him becoming a fellow sugar baby in the midst of Jongin choreographing one of his final performance pieces in modern dance, making him almost trip across the lacquered floors of the rented studio. “What? No way.”

“Jongin, Chanyeol’s got flocks of majorly rich friends. I can ask him if some of them are particularly fond of pretty model types like you.” 

Jongin shook his head, slumping down beside Baekhyun and handing him the Kinesio tape to lay it on his back. “No, Baek, you know I don’t do casual sex.”

Baekhyun frowned before he sighed, ripping pieces of the fabric tape to pull Jongin’s muscles back into place to alleviate the ache of being overused. “You’re right. they’d probably eat you alive with how cute you are, Ninibear.” He exclaimed, squeezing Jongin against his chest. 

“You don’t have to jump into that immediately. Before Chanyeol and I even began meeting personally, he paid a lot just for my faceless nudes. If you just posed your long-ass legs the right way, I’m sure some chaebol wouldn’t be too heartbroken with parting with a couple of thousand dollars for a new addition to their wank bank.”

“One–gross. Two, not all of them are going to turn out like Chanyeol is to you, Baek.”

“One dinner. Just come with me to the next company event Chanyeol holds, and I’ll sift through all of the guests, so I can find you a man who won’t eat you alive. I’ll tell them you’re a friend.”

“I am your only friend, Baekhyun, and don’t you have readings to get to?”

“Shut up.” Baekhyun scoffs without heat, before patting his cheek twice all too gently.

—

Jongin liked Chanyeol enough to accept his invitation to a private company dinner along with Baekhyun. He’s disarmingly charming to his Jongin and the rest of his guests, sweet and courteous to Baekhyun, and isn’t shy about his work hard, play hard lifestyle that he often shares with Jongin’s best friend. 

Jongin also, most peculiarly, likes his perfume as well.

He meets Doh Kyungsoo in the same company dinner, catching his eye on the other side of the ballroom balcony, his brows filled in with Baekhyun’s insistence and dressed in a too expensive Gucci suit that Chanyeol’s credit card had unknowingly paid for. 

Baekhyun had also insisted he had gotten his legs waxed, “_ just ‘cause, _” He explained, all before Jongin nearly bruised him with the grip on his wrist after a particularly tough strip on the back of his thigh.

Though an hour in, the festivities are, for lack of a better word, starting to bore him. He's pretty sure he's falling asleep on his feet before Baekhyun had dragged him out to the balcony of a bit of fresh air, without noticing the other person outside. He could only do so much small talk, after all.

Baekhyun is quick to pull him aside, whispering loudly in his ear once he recognised the older man. “That’s Doh Kyungsoo. He’s one of Chanyeol’s partners. Obviously, he’s the D in DKP & Associates, but if you play your cards right, you might get that D in you.” He added cheekily, before waltzing towards Chanyeol with a pretty smile on his face and closing the French doors behind him. 

Jongin finds himself glaring a hole at the back of Baekhyun’s strawberry tinged head through the glass before a deep voice manages to whisk him back into reality. “Hi, Doh Kyungsoo.” the man offers, voice low and smooth as he holds out his hand towards Jongin. “I don’t think I've had the pleasure.” 

Needless to say, Jongin is taken aback with the quiet confidence exuding from him, mouth going dry at the mere sight of the older man. 

From the gel coiffed hair, the shoulders of his bespoke suit and the tips of his Italian leather shoes—for some reason, despite his advantage in height, something about Kyungsoo; his initial demeanour, his soulful eyes, the sharp jut of his jaw, Jongin doesn’t know, makes Jongin want to lower his gaze, get down on his knees and perhaps, even please him.

He also thinks he may have had one too many glasses of a type of wine he will never be able to taste again nor pronounce in his lifetime, but under the bright outdoor lighting and Kyungsoo’s attention solely on him, that would be a conversation for another time.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jongin mutters, panicking internally as he slowly made a fool of himself towards Chanyeol’s much hotter co-worker for staring at the offered hand for way too long. “I’m Jongin.” he says, hesitantly taking Kyungsoo’s hand to shake it gingerly. 

The action seems to amuse Kyungsoo though, as he smiled at the younger man even after the awkward exchange. It may have been a breath of fresh air, being used to rough handshakes as a micro-competition of power between men of money. 

Jongin’s handshake would’ve better been labelled as a gentle clasping of hands, rather than the foundation of a new partnership. 

"What are you doing outside? The event's just started." Kyungsoo asks, eyes on the overlooking park and street lights of a nearby highway. 

"I'm not used to these events, unfortunately." Jongin offers, setting his wine glass down onto the ledge, pressing his lips into an impression of a smile when Kyungsoo turns towards him.

“You’re Baekhyun’s friend, I assume?” 

“Yes, we’re roommates.” Jongin had answered blandly, flushing at his honest answer and feeling very much like a fish out of water amongst these accomplished professionals. 

“Um, yeah. He’s my best friend.” He continues, searching for the rosy head of hair in the sea of black and navy suits and seeing him with Chanyeol and a handful of other guests, laughing into each other.

Jongin’s gaze momentarily moves to look at Kyungsoo, who’s looking at his business partner wrapping an arm around his younger companion’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, what happens in Chanyeol’s bedroom isn’t any of my concerns,” Kyungsoo says, watching the exchange with him as he sipped at his glass of whisky. “Though I must admit, your friend is something special. Chanyeol’s been seeing him for more than a year now.”

“Baekhyun’s incredible to have around. I think Mr. Park realised that too.” Jongin replies, smiling thinly around the rim of his glass. Perhaps, Kyungsoo isn’t aware of Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s arrangement. He’d rather keep his mouth shut. “From what Chanyeol drones on and on about in the little free time we have, Baekhyun’s in legal management. What do you do, Jongin?” 

“Ah, I'm still in school for dance, Mr. Doh.” 

“Call me Kyungsoo, please.” The older man says, giving him a small smile that does nothing to quell the ball of unease in Jongin’s belly. “What kind of dance?”

“Contemporary.” Jongin offers, slightly preening at the topic he actually had some knowledge on. “Ballet and Jazz are some of my favourites, but I do a little bit of everything,” He says, fidgeting under Kyungsoo’s gaze. 

“Impressive.” Kyungsoo replies.

“Uh, so.” Jongin starts, wincing a bit at the way his voice cracked. “How long have you known Mr. Park, Kyungsoo?” He manages to say, liking the weight of Kyungsoo’s name on his tongue.

“Too long." He joked, pulling a surprised laugh from Jongin’s belly. His thick lips slid into a grin as he tossed another look at the social butterfly of his business partner chatting clients and employees in the ballroom. There’s a glimmer of fondness in the older man’s eyes, and Jongin finds himself lightening up into the conversation. 

“I've known him ever since he decided that I was going to be his best friend in preschool, went to the same school until university, and now we share a corporate bank account with Junmyeon.” 

“Junmyeon, we met in middle school. By my sophomore year in university, they were both drunk in my bathtub, crying about whichever sorority girl or underclassman had passed on their charms." Kyungsoo grins, and Jongin finds himself laughing along with him over the small anecdote of their closeness.

"That's Kim Junmyeon." He points to a man on the other side of the room, whispering into the ear of the beautiful woman hanging on his arm. "By the way, be careful about those two. They look like any Korean mother’s description of a perfect marriage,” Kyungsoo drawls, unfazed in baring his closest friends’ dirty laundry to someone he just met, loose-lipped with the liquor in his system. 

“But don’t be fooled with the looks or the charms. Junmyeon and Joohyun will eat you alive.” Jongin accidentally meets eyes with the woman through the glass doors, and a chill goes down his spine when her immaculate ruby lips curl into a smirk. “Oh.” He flushes, ducking his head down as he understood the meaning of Kyungsoo’s words.

“Not interested in what they’re selling, I’m assuming?” Kyungsoo smirks at him over the rim of his glass, words loaded and eyes dangerous as they bore into Jongin. Jongin can only shake his head in response, untrusting of his tongue and the dryness of his throat. 

“Maybe not with them. His wife kind of scares me.” Jongin mumbles, fidgeting with this glass and biting the inside of his cheek. His words make Kyungsoo burst out into loud chuckles, shaking his head as they die down between his lips, though their remnants cling to the lines of Kyungsoo’s eyes.

His eyes are extremely bright when they turn towards Jongin, but all he can think about is how extremely handsome he is. Oh my god. Someone help him. 

“Joohyun is mostly harmless outside the bedroom. It’s in court you have to watch out for, or she’ll mop the floor with you.” Kyungsoo offers, the mirth still in the lines of his smile. “Good thing you’re not a lawyer, then.”

The conversation lulls to a gentle stop as they listen to the muted bossa nova through the half-open French doors of the balcony. The silence is nice, but Jongin decides to ask the question he’s most curious about, despite his better judgement. “So, you’ve uh,” He asks lamely, “bought what they were buying?”

“No. I don’t like to mix business with my pleasure, but Junmyeon is an incredible over-sharer when drunk.” Kyungsoo replies, smiling up at Jongin. “What’s gotten you curious all of a sudden?” He teases, his lips curled up into a teasing grin on one side of his handsome face. 

Jongin is sure he looks like a goldfish with the way he’s opening and closing his mouth with no rhyme nor reason. His blood pressure is also probably off the roof too, with the times his face has been left burning in the fifteen minutes he’s been talking to the older man. “No reason, just curious.”

“I prefer to be in control, I’m afraid.” Kyungsoo sipped at the remnants of his drink, peering at Jongin through the thick curtain of his lashes. “How about you, Jongin?”

“I don’t mind it. Letting go of the reigns.” Jongin trails off, teeth sharp on his bottom lip. His face can’t get any redder at this point, he thinks, toes fidgeting in his dress shoes. Kyungsoo stares at his face as hums beside him, a noncommittal noise to Jongin’s words. 

He can’t seem to shake the heated glance at the side of his neck, though.

The silence that blankets them is palpable, so the arrival of Baekhyun and the other man of the hour’s sudden return to the balcony is not an unwelcome presence. “Hiya.” Chanyeol greets, immediately crowding around Kyungsoo and wrapping an arm around him. “I see you’ve met Jongin. Did you bore him to death in the twenty minutes that we’ve left you two alone?”

“No, Mr. Park,” Jongin shakes his head, “Kyungsoo has been good company.” He finishes, subtly signalling at Baekhyun for help. Baekhyun seems to notice the lack of honourifics and grins up at Jongin, while Chanyeol tightens his arm around Kyungsoo, a teasing lilt to his voice. Though it does earn him an elbow to the ribs from the shorter man.

“Kyungsoo, huh?” 

“That’s my name, isn’t it?” Kyungsoo bit back, lifting an eyebrow at Chanyeol. “What, I didn’t even say anything yet!” 

“At this point, trying to stop the dumb things spilling from your mouth is an actual reflex, Chanyeol.” Came the exasperated reply from Kyungsoo, though he hasn’t really done much to get out of the taller male’s grip. Baekhyun snakes an arm around his to pull Jongin down so he can whisper to him. “You looked like someone had just slathered red paint on your cheeks earlier. Mind telling me what that was about?”

Jongin makes the goldfish impression again when he and Kyungsoo meet eyes again. Blub. Blub. Baekhyun only snorts at his reaction. “Later, I guess.” 

The conversation is cut short once more when another man bursts out into an exhausted sigh at the sight of both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, and even Chanyeol’s easy-going grin grows pinched when he approaches them. “What are you two doing hiding out here when we have an event inside?”

Baekhyun offers him one of his signature charming grins, while Jongin is doing his best not to have a full-body flush when he recognises who he is. It’s the final third to DKP & Associates—the one with the terrifying wife that could eat him alive, he recounts from Kyungsoo’s stories. 

Kim Junmyeon. 

Though, he looks nothing like the image Kyungsoo had painted him as—a dangerous charmer interested in ruining pretty things he and his wife picked up in their free time—when he’s mothering his younger business partners and long-time friends from disappearing from a company event, thick brows knit together in frustration.

“Just a bit of fresh air, Junmyeon-Hyung,” Chanyeol says breezily. “No need to Mother Hen us into going back inside, plus we also have guests here.” He cocks his head towards Jongin and Baekhyun. “Wanted to say hi to them too.”

Junmyeon sighs again before his features school themselves in a placid, professional smile that is friendly enough to both Jongin and Baekhyun. “Kim Junmyeon, a pleasure to meet you two.” 

Baekhyun, ever equipped in events like these with his marketing background, meets the older man’s smile with one of his own. “Byun Baekhyun and this is Kim Jongin, the pleasure is all ours.” He supplies, saving Jongin the trouble of actually talking to Junmyeon.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation with these two, but we do have investors to entertain.” Junmyeon looks properly apologetic, and the breath Kyungsoo lets out of his nose is loud enough to make Chanyeol laugh. “Last time I talked to Mr. Cho, he was unsubtly trying to make me date his daughter. I only wanted to talk about the updates on the Dubai project.” Kyungsoo says.

“I don’t think anyone wants to discuss hallways in a company event, Soo, even if I do like a properly arched hallway,” Chanyeol muses, unwrapping his arms from Kyungsoo and straightening his tie. “But, hyung’s right. Just endure for another hour, and maybe you can get Mr. Cho in another rousing debate on his terrible backsplash.”

The tallest turns to Baekhyun, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek, while Kyungsoo merely maintains eye contact with Jongin. “I’ll be back later, keep Jongin company for now,” Chanyeol smirks, bumping his hip against Kyungsoo’s. “Don’t look so glum, Soo. Jongin will be here when we’re done socialising.” 

Once the owners and hosts of the party disappear into the room again, Baekhyun corners him into a conversation to try to get at the bottom of Jongin’s deeply flushed face prior to the couple interrupting their silence in the balcony. “So, why did you look like a tomato earlier? Did Kyungsoo tell you something saucy?” He prompts, but Jongin’s silence is answer enough. “Oh? So it is something saucy?”

“Yeah,” Jongin murmurs, watching the trio move from one conversation to another. “About Junmyeon.” He finishes lamely, and judging by the surprised look on Baekhyun’s face, he had not an inkling on the conversation. “What about him?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home.” Jongin murmurs, “I don’t want anyone to overhear.” Baekhyun thankfully doesn’t pry until they’re back in their apartment, where he gasps at Jongin’s revelation about the trio’s eldest, almost dropping his tub of solid oil cleanser on the carpet.

Their departure from the event doesn’t happen quietly—Chanyeol makes a show of kissing Baekhyun on the lips deeply and squashing Jongin in a huge hug, followed with a handshake from Junmyeon and most peculiarly, a small smile from his wife, Joohyun. 

Jongin also comes home with a kiss on the cheek from Kyungsoo, who’s still pleasantly buzzed from the open bar fueled by the dull conversation from investors only interested in matching their offspring to the sole partner of the company without marital strings or commitments. “See you around, Jongin.” He smiled a little too close to him, that Jongin could smell the warmth of his perfume. 

He also feels Kyungsoo insert his business card into the outer pocket of his suit jacket, but Jongin won’t let Baekhyun know that. 

—

Of course, Baekhyun finds out.

Baekhyun finds out only a week later when he comes home from a long day of classes, books piled high in the crook of his arm only to open the door to Jongin sitting on the couch with a small slip of paper in his hand and his phone in the other, eyebrows drawn together in concentration that he doesn’t even notice his best friend plucking the card from his fingers. 

“Hyung—hey! Give me that!” Jongin yelps, snapping out of his daze when Baekhyun turns the card over, eyebrows quirked up when he recognises the familiar company stationery, and rising to his hairline when he sees the details on the card, specifically, whose details. “Holy shit Ninibear, you got his number?”

“He gave it to me, but that’s beside the point.” Jongin says, standing up to try and snatch the little piece of paper from Baekhyun, but Baekhyun is much more agile than he is despite his exhaustion, especially with that smile on his face. “If the things Chanyeol tells me are true, it takes a lot to pique his interest, and if you managed to get his attention in twenty minutes, he’s obviously interested.”

Baekhyun lets himself get wrestled into the lumpy cushions, slipping the business card into his back pocket, Jongin whining in his lap as he desperately tries to look for it. “Have you texted him?”

“No!”

“Why not!”

“He was kinda drunk when he gave it to me last week,” Jongin explains, slow in noticing Baekhyun eyeing his phone on the coffee table. “I didn’t want to intrude if he gave it to me by mistake, didn’t wanna be rude.”

“Also, he’s so hot, it’s unfair.” Jongin whines, falling back onto the armrest. Baekhyun pauses, studying Jongin’s flustered face with a raised eyebrow before his hand is shooting towards Jongin’s phone and pressing his thumb onto the home button. “What are you doing?” Jongin asks, shaken by the sudden action.

“Getting you a dick appointment.” Baekhyun states plainly, thumbs moving across the cracked glass of Jongin’s phone to compose a message, digging his knee into Jongin’s belly to keep him away once the younger man realised what was happening. “You don’t even know his number!” He screeches, reaching for the device but Baekhyun is much, much stronger than he looks.

Baekhyun’s grin is triumphant when he hears the swoosh—the sound of the message successfully sending to Kyungsoo, before he’s tossing the phone back to Jongin. “You underestimate me Jongin. If I can bullshit a case digest two days before the deadline, I can memorise ten numbers within five minutes.” He explains while Jongin can only stare at the blue bubble of the message to Kyungsoo’s number on his phone.

_ Hello, this is Jongin. _

_ I don’t think you’ll remember me, _

_ but we met at the company dinner last weekend? _

At least he can applaud Baekhyun in sounding close to what he does through text, but the mortification settles deep into his bones that it almost renders him useless on the rug in the living room. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.” He moans, letting a strange gurgle out from his throat. “He’s going to think I’m weird.”

His whining is cut back when his phone lets out a series of short chimes, and both Jongin and Baekhyun immediately shift their attention to his lap. “See!” Jongin cries, rubbing at his face, “That’s probably him telling me to never contact him again.”

“How about we start by the calming the fuck down and actually checking your phone, huh, Jongin?” Baekhyun yells out, finger pointed to the phone, whose screen is bright with a new notification. Jongin only flips the bird at Baekhyun, who retaliates quickly with his slender fingers curled into twin ones pointed toward Jongin. 

Jongin quickly swipes at the text message, jaw-dropping in surprise at the response. Baekhyun snatches the phone from his hands, and his features morph into satisfaction, with a grin that was all too full of itself on his pretty face. “Told ‘ya. Be sure to reply within the next business day, Ninibear.”

_ +8217 - xxxx - xxxx _

_ Hi Jongin, this is Kyungsoo. _

_ Of course, I remember you. _

_ How have you been? _

—

The arrangement between Jongin and Kyungsoo comes much later after that text from Baekhyun.

Much, much, much later. 

It starts with texting, of course. In between Kyungsoo’s work and Jongin’s classes. They talk about the most mundane things—Jongin’s classwork, Kyungsoo’s brunch meetings, and other things in between that Jongin deemed interesting enough to share to the older man.

Unsurprisingly, Baekhyun asks him about Kyungsoo in the middle of a Netflix binge in Jongin’s bedroom, his chin digging into Jongin’s back as the teenagers on Baekhyun’s shiny new Macbook screen scream at each other, panicking about the drugged scones they were trying to destroy at a wake. 

“How’s the texting with Kyungsoo? Did you send him a nude yet?”

“Hyung!” Jongin squeaks, jerking up in surprise and narrowly missing Baekhyun’s chin as he sits up. “You’re practically half-naked when you’re in dance practice but you’re blushing at sending a nude?”

“I’m not as shameless as you are, B, and I’m only half-naked at practice because it’s easier to move with fewer clothes in the way,” Jongin says, quick to defend himself. “How do you even send a tasteful nude—actually don’t answer that, please.”

“Shame, I would’ve told you everything I knew.” Baekhyun sniffs almost tearfully, a hand on his chest. “Anyway, what do you guys talk about if you’re not, you know, sexting?”

“Nothing much. Work, the weather, classes.”

“How boring. You’ll never get anywhere with him.”

“What do you and Chanyeol talk about outside of sex then?”

“Some joke that makes him laugh, his new dog. What kinda stuff he wants to buy me. Stuff like that.” Baekhyun lists the usual topics, rattling off at the top of his head. “How much tuition is going to be per semester comes up too.”

Jongin bites his lip, fidgeting with his phone. “Do Junmyeon and Kyungsoo know about you being Chanyeol’s sugar baby?”

“No. They know I’m his much younger boyfriend.” 

“Aren’t you though?” Jongin asks, and his normally quick-witted friend falters. He watches as a mix of emotions go over his face before he manages to catch himself. “No,” Baekhyun trails off, “More like friends with benefits, I guess.”

“What are his benefits to being friends with you then? I mean, you’re getting a free ride to uni because of him. Good sex too, I’m assuming.” 

“Excuse you Jongin, I am a delight to have around. I am an absolute sweetheart.” Baekhyun retorts while Jongin laughs at the intensity in his eyes. “And how do you know the sex is good?”

“You look like you had a real good meal and full eight-hour sleep when you come back from his place.” Jongin says, all too used to seeing Baekhyun constantly sleep-deprived on their dining table, surrounded by books and highlighters in the late hours of the night. “You just basically look like a really content puppy, and also you come home dressed in an absurdly expensive sweater.” 

“How do you know those aren’t mine?”

“I doubt you’d wear a double extra large Vetements sweater just to nap in.” 

“Kyungsoo told me that Chanyeol really likes you.” The younger remarks, pausing to munch on a handful of popcorn. “He says that he’s surprised that you’ve been with him for over a year.”

“When did he tell you that exactly?”

“The company dinner. Chanyeol talks to them about you a lot, apparently.”

“Does he now.” Baekhyun trails off, eyes thoughtful before he smiles at Jongin. “Enough about Chanyeol and I. What about you and Kyungsoo? Has he invited you to dinner yet?”

“No, plus I probably won’t take the invitation. Dinner kinda implies that something may happen afterwards, you know.” Jongin mutters, rolling over on his side to face Baekhyun. “I’m not a prude, Baek. It’s just that I don’t want to feel like I’m only talking to him because of ulterior motives.”

“What if he offers?” Baekhyun asks, in between catching individual popcorn kernels in his mouth and missing a handful of times. “You won’t know the terms if you won’t ask.” Jongin’s eyes are curious, lips pressed together in thought.

“Chanyeol was the one who offered, you know. In between my business degree and now this law degree, I was pretty sure I was gonna be in debt ‘til I turn sixty. I thought why not, and I made sure I had an out when the time came that I wanted out.”

“What about if Chanyeol wanted out?”

“If he lost interest in me, you mean?” Baekhyun asks, shrugging a shoulder until the neckline slipped down to show the yellow swatches of fading love bites along his collarbone. The look on his face is one of forced indifference, eyes modestly turned away from Jongin’s. “We’ll be expecting a clean cut from each other, I’ll be paid to keep strict confidentiality about anything and everything I know.”

“Atty. Bae will smother me in NDAs and proceed to wipe the floor with me in court if I violate it. I’m aware of what will happen, but,” Baekhyun didn’t miss a beat after he had swallowed his mouthful of crisps, grinning down at Jongin as he leaned back on the headboard. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, Ninibear.”

“You like Chanyeol, Hyung.”

“Of course, I do, or I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

Jongin smiles, small but all too knowingly, cocking his head to the side. “You know what I mean.”

Baekhyun returns the smile, having been caught by his best friend, laughing as he reaches over to fall into Jongin’s arms. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get there, Jongin.” He mutters, burrowing into Jongin’s shoulder. “Now, do me a favour and don’t catch feelings if Kyungsoo ever fucks like he’s in love you.”

A finger threads itself on Baekhyun’s now faded pink locks, silvery grey in the dim light of the Jongin’s bedroom. “You’re being dumb, Hyung. He hasn’t even asked me out yet.”

—

Kyungsoo asks Jongin out two days later, to lunch. 

It starts like any other text conversation. Kyungsoo greets him a good morning, asks him how his day was. Jongin replies with a generic hello, I’m doing good, student assistant duties later in the day. 

Jongin nearly trips over his own feet when he reads the message, staring at the words on his screen until one of his friends from his Ballet Techniques class snaps their fingers in front of him. “Jongin? Are you okay? You just stopped in the middle of the hallway.”

He blinks, tilting his head in confusion before he decides a reply to Kyungsoo can wait until he has sat down and eaten a late breakfast. “Yeah, I’m fine, Sehun. I just got a text, nothing major.” Jongin immediately feels self-conscious under Sehun’s pointed stare, flushing down to the neckline of his shirt as the younger raises a manicured eyebrow at him. 

“Did someone send you an unsolicited dick pic or something?” Sehun asks, tugging at Jongin’s arm in the direction of one of his favourite (_ read also: overpriced _) cafes on the outskirts of campus. “How did you even come up with that idea?” Jongin retorts, suddenly overcome with the need to run his fingers through his hair, wincing when he tugs a knot from the dark tresses. 

“I dunno. You went all pale and shaken, which is my usual reaction when I get them.” Sehun snorts, handing his card to the barista for both their orders. He also scowls at Jongin for ten seconds to drive him away from handing him the cash for the appropriate amount, saying it was payment for his help in proofreading an Art, Citizenship and Politics essay of his from last week. 

“That’s the reason you got from sifting through your rolodex of reactions in your head?” Came the amused reply from Jongin, the beginnings of a giggle starting to show itself on his cheeks. “Either that or you just got asked out by someone you’ve been avoiding for a specific amount of time now.” 

Sehun smirks when Jongin shuts his mouth, eyes downcast and focused on anywhere and everywhere but his face. “That’s it, isn’t it? You got asked out.” He says almost triumphantly, running his fingers through his black hair as he leans against the counter full of sugar and napkins.

The action garners him a small fit of giggles and a fair bit of ogling from the gaggle of high school girls on the table across from where they’re standing, but Sehun pays it no mind, after all, he’s been dating the international Music Composition student from Changsha since freshman year.

Jongin digs his fingers into the napkin dispenser and tugs out too many of the brown tissues, shucking it into the pocket of his coat. “Yeah. They asked me out for lunch.”

“Anyone I know?” Sehun wonders, before walking to the counter to claim their orders. He leaves the tray for Jongin to bring up, muttering about if he_ was going to do everything in this friendship, Jongin please _ before he’s setting their cups down onto their usual spot on the second floor of the cafe.

He crosses his legs, lugging his dance bag beside him before he’s looking at Jongin expectantly. “Well?”

“No. A friend of Baekhyun-Hyung’s friend. We met at a party he brought me along to.” Jongin says, opting for a more generalised explanation of the company dinner Baekhyun’s _ sugar daddy _invited them to. “Oh, so they’re older?”

Kyungsoo was a good eleven years older than him at thirty-two, only a year junior to Chanyeol, so yes, he was older. 

_ Much _ older.

“Yes.” 

“Are they hot?” 

Jongin flushes at the question. “Yeah, sure.”

“Judging from your reaction, I guess they are.” Sehun takes an obnoxiously loud sip of his Americano, his eyes boring into Jongin’s. “Do you get creep vibes from them?” 

Jongin bites at his muffin gingerly, thinking if a twenty-five-minute conversation in person was enough to know every bit of Kyungsoo’s demeanour. “At first impression, no. From his texts, he’s perfectly courteous.”

“Does he use punctuations properly?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t do it, he’s a definite weirdo.” Sehun shakes his head, looking very much convinced about the absolute garbage he just spewed out. “I use proper punctuation, Sehun.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t even save my number on your phone until we finished first year. It cancels out.” The younger of the two presses, his eyes curling into crescents when he throws his head back to laugh, catching his sunglasses as they tipped off his head. “Kidding. Kidding. Why are you scared then?”

Jongin finds himself at a loss for words, staring down mournfully at his half-eaten banana nut muffin. “I dunno. Just afraid of making a fool of myself in front of them, they’re older, and I reshelve library books in an attempt to pay my bills.”

“Everyone’s terrible at something, Jongin.” Sehun drawls, shrugging his shoulders. “No one is too good for something, unless you’re like, I don’t know, God or something. You are entitled to choose which sort of people you give your time, though.”

“Do I go out with them?” Sehun steals a morsel of Jongin’s muffin and pops it into his mouth. “Do you wanna? It’s just lunch, anyway. Easier to sweat off if it goes bad compared to dinner.”

Jongin digs through the coat of his pocket to look for his phone, typing his reply to Kyungsoo’s offer with a determined pout to his lips, almost slamming his phone down on the table and sipping at his lemonade worriedly after. Sehun watches the entire thing with an amused look on his face, grinning when Jongin throws at a balled-up napkin in his direction.

“That impulsive Aries energy suits you well,” Jongin’s friend comments, all before he’s smirking across Jongin when he reaches for his phone when it lights up with a reply. “Can’t wait to see when it blows up on your face.”

_ Hi, Kyungsoo. _

_ Sorry for the late reply, but lunch would be great. _

_ Does Thursday between eleven to one work? _

_ No worries, Jongin. _

_ Thursday at 11:30 sounds great to me. _

_ Anything specific you’re up to eating? _

_ Allergies I need to be aware of? _

_ Thursday at 11:30 it is. _

_ Not really? Just not a big fan of shellfish _

_ Alright, I’ll steer clear from shellfish then. _

_ I’ll send you the details tonight, or tomorrow morning. _

_ Have a good day, see you then. _

—

Jongin’s relationship with Kyungsoo develops throughout many dates. 

Their first date goes well in Jongin’s opinion, he had decided to dress up a little more in a white dress shirt and slacks compared to his constant tee and sweats combo, much to Sehun’s amusement after they had showered after dance practice.

Kyungsoo had been nothing but friendly touches once they had met in person again, all too cosy in the olive-green sweater he was wearing and nothing like the shiny Gangnam office he had come from a few minutes before their date. 

Though he was very much committed to showing himself to Jongin as approachable, a sweater does nothing to soften the sheathed steel of his gaze gives Jongin a reminder of who Doh Kyungsoo is, one of many men in power aware of their status in life and knew very well how to maintain it, or rise above it.

But he tries, and Jongin appreciates the effort as he remembers the Doh Kyungsoo he had met in the party, piercing glazes, measured politeness and ice in his veins as he maintains a purely professional conversation with their investors about business and only business.

They had managed to get to know each other outside their mutual connection, Jongin gets the entire rundown of Kyungsoo’s hobbies and family, peppering in any random thing that he seems to remember in the middle of a conversation. 

Jongin tells him his decision to shift from Literature to Dance two years ago, and of course, he sprinkles as little as he can about his family, how he and Baekhyun met in his previous university, just so Kyungsoo doesn’t feel that he wasn’t interested.

He was very, very interested, of course, but Jongin was always a shy, gentle child, that grew up a shy, introverted person with very specific interests. 

Of course, it hadn’t been easy with Jongin’s almost crippling shyness around the older man. Kyungsoo, in turn, had made it known to Jongin that he wasn’t rushing anything in between one of their lunch dates, his warm hand reaching out to hold Jongin’s clammy hands and intertwined their fingers on the table. 

Jongin had been conflicted about the entire set up—Kyungsoo was too nice, too courteous, too generous with gifts—and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to step out of line in fear of jeopardising the pseudo intimate friendship he had shared with Kyungsoo.

The almost six-month-long courtship had been nice. 

He appreciated how slow things were moving with the number of dates they had already been in, especially with initial apprehension he had to even contacting Kyungsoo in the first place, but Jongin was only a man. He wouldn’t be lying if he said he wouldn’t mind a little bit of action right about now.

Kyungsoo hadn’t even kissed him on the mouth, even once, opting to kiss him on the cheek whenever they met and parted ways. The farthest Kyungsoo had gone to touching him almost inappropriately was when he had almost tripped on the curb, and Kyungsoo had reached out to hold his waist to steady him.

Needless to say, Jongin had been short of irritated for some weeks now. How do you politely say that he just wanted to—_ excuse his french _—get fucked on the nearest flat surface?

Jongin couldn’t even reject the absurdly expensive gifts from the older man due to his gentle insistence, the french perfume from their most recent date sitting on his dress still in its original packaging, the bold black letters of the label staring Jongin in the face when he reached for his deodorant every morning.

In between Kyungsoo’s insane workload as a senior partner of their firm, and Jongin’s gruelling hours split between Dance classes and his assistant work, their relationship had relied mostly on texts and calls that evolved later on to face-time calls brought about Jongin mistakenly dialling his number and being unable to close the call before Kyungsoo had answered. 

The late-night face-time call had seared itself into the rolodex of the most embarrassing moments of his life deep into Jongin’s brain—him blinking against the bright lights of his laptop and his thick glasses on his nose, staring at Kyungsoo only clad in a robe and his hair dripping on the other side of the line. 

_ “Jongin? Is everything okay?” _

Blub. Blub. Blub. 

Kyungsoo had looked extremely handsome with his features all knit up in worry for Jongin like that. 

“I may have dialled the wrong number. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Jongin moans out, rubbing at his face tiredly and closing his laptop. “Were you in the shower?” He asks while Kyungsoo grabs a towel to wipe his face from the shampoo dripping onto his skin. _ “Yes, I was.” _ The older answers, chuckling at Jongin’s flushed cheeks.

_ “It’s really late,” _ Kyungsoo’s low voice speaks out through the speakers of his phone, and Jongin’s eyes flitter towards the digital clock on his bedside table, the neon numbers reading _ 1:26 am _ almost mockingly at him. _ “What are you still doing up?” _

“I’m finishing a paper on Gender and Society due later, and I was going to call a friend if they already finished theirs.” The younger of the two supplies, groaning at the reading materials and notebooks littered on his bed. “To be fair, yours and his contact details are next to each other on my contacts.” Jongin reasoned out again. “What about you, why are you up late?”

_ “Chanyeol and I had to finalise some plans with my team before I’m due to fly to Singapore in two days, so I just got home an hour ago actually.” _

“Oh shit, sorry. You’re probably really tired now.”

_ “It’s fine, Jongin, it has been a while since we talked properly. I don’t mind.” _ Kyungsoo says to placate him, smiling through the screen. _ “How about you call your friend first and I’ll call you again once I’m done with my shower?” _

“You don’t need to go to bed yet?”

_ “I’ll be meeting up with Junmyeon-Hyung for a meeting later in the afternoon for any final changes that we missed earlier. I won’t need to go to work in the morning.” _ Kyungsoo explains, _ “Call your friend, baby, and text me when you’re done so I can call.” _

“Okay.” Jongin’s mouth goes dry at the pet name, blinking rapidly when the weight of the syllables and Kyungsoo’s deep voice settles at the pit of his stomach and adds to the months' long frustration. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to notice his slip up or is too busy savouring Jongin’s positive reaction to it. “I’ll let you know.” He rasps out.

All thought of finishing his paper almost dissipates from his head, Jongin falling back on the headboard as he dials Sehun’s number in an attempt to steady his heart rate. Sehun thankfully picks up after the third ring, without a sharp cuss directed at Jongin and the entirety of his bloodline.

_ “Hello?” _

“Are you done with the paper?”

_ “Hello to you too,” _ Sehun drawls, and Jongin just about hears his fingers cease on the keyboard, _ “God fuck no, I just started with the outline and planned to do it balls to the walls on the weekend. Didn’t you read the emails? The submission has been moved to Monday instead of tomorrow.” _

“What.”

_ “I’m not fucking with you if that’s what you’re asking. I literally forgot about it until I read the emails today. Go check them.” _Jongin reaches for his laptop, sifting through Blackboard emails on his university account. “Goddamnit.” He mutters when indeed, the deadline was moved on Monday.

He didn’t even eat dinner to finish this fuck-all paper. Jongin feels all sorts of annoyed now, suddenly irked with his eighteen-year-old self for even choosing his minor. 

_ “Well, knowing you and your overthinking tendencies, you’re probably okay.” _ Sehun speaks, before cutting himself off with a yawn, _ “How about we meet tomorrow afternoon in the library, so we can be rid of this torture together?” _

Jongin grunts, rubbing his face tiredly. “Sure, sure. Late lunch then literary torture?”

_ “I’m G to meet at two pm, a little babe time with Xing first, of course. Goodnight, Jongin.” _ Sehun says, before he hangs up. Jongin’s phone rings with a text from Kyungsoo, and he takes that as the green light to call the older man.

“Hey, how’s your paper?” Came Kyungsoo’s friendly greeting, much to Jongin’s persisting irritation. “Turns out it wasn’t due tomorrow anymore. I just read the emails,” Jongin almost whines, “Moved on Monday.”

“Oh wow. That must suck.” 

“I didn’t even eat dinner properly to start this paper, so I’m feeling all sorts of pissed off right now.” Jongin drones out, listening to Kyungsoo laugh on the other side of the line. “I’m sorry, baby. You should go to bed, finish it tomorrow.”

“Yeah. My friend and I are meeting up on campus to finish it.” The younger man explains, trying to turn a deaf ear to the pet name, bone-deep and all too pleasing to him. “I’m too hungry to sleep, but I’m too lazy to get takeout. I’m not in the condition to talk to anyone else right now. Sehun says I’m starting to get hangry.”

“How about we have a late dinner? I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to whatever’s open.” Kyungsoo suggests, his tone light and contemplating, and Jongin is too weak to decline. “Kyungsoo, it’s two in the morning.”

“You forget we’re in Seoul. We’ll find an open Samgyupsal place,” He offers, “We can even go to a convenience store if you’re in the mood for ramyeon. I’d offer to cook for you, but I don’t think you’d be up to wait.”

“You have work,” Jongin rebuts weakly. “In the afternoon. So, do I pick you up?” Kyungsoo replies.

Jongin misses several beats before he replies, adrenaline on an all-time high with the later hours of the night and his empty stomach. “How about I go to your place?” He retaliates before he realises the insinuation of his tone. “So that you don’t have to drive, it’s late.”

“Metro’s closed for the day, Jongin.” Kyungsoo laughs, but he’s not declining Jongin’s offer and it doesn’t help Jongin’s case at all. “I can take a cab.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo replies after what feels like too long, and Jongin’s scrambling to get onto his feet. “But you have to let me drop you off in the morning.”

“The Metro’ll be open in the morning. I’ll be fine, I invited myself over.”

“You’d still be my guest, Jongin. It would be rude for me to just sleep and let you go home alone.” Kyungsoo insists, ever the gentleman, “What if you stay over? I can drop you off-campus before I meet up with Junmyeon-Hyung.”

They’ve never done that, Jongin thinks weakly. The insinuation sits heavy on Jongin’s belly and makes him squirm—the possibility of things happening. 

“I’ll stay over, but you’ll just drop me off at the nearest station. I don’t want to put you out of the way tomorrow.” Jongin proposes, leaving no room for argument with the older man and pulling his towel off the hanger on the closet. Kyungsoo’s laughter is deep over the line, sweeping over Jongin like a balm. “Alright. Anything you want? I’ll order in.”

“Surprise me.” Jongin says breathlessly, suddenly excited over the entire thing. “Okay, and by the way, be sure to bring any sort of identification with you. Security’s kind of tight here. See you, baby.”

Jongin makes a noise of confirmation, before he’s packing his laptop and files into his bag, and even having the forethought to pack an extra shirt and pair of underwear. He also takes a really long shower. Just ‘cause.

He makes eye contact with Baekhyun when he steps out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, frowning when Baekhyun takes a swig of milk straight from the carton. “What the fuck are you doing?” Jongin asks, while Baekhyun only turns the carton, the bold block letters of his name written in sharpie on the box. “It’s my milk.” He all but shrieks out, the last stretch of final exam stress catching up to him.

“Why the fuck are you awake?” Baekhyun asks, staring at the balled-up dirty laundry on Jongin’s arm, and Jongin has the sense to tell Baekhyun the truth, well, some of it. “I showered?”

“Why?”

“I’m going out.”

“At two in the morning?”

“Yes! Why is this a big deal?”

Baekhyun’s stare is prodding as he studies Jongin, and the grin that overcomes his features almost scares him a little. “Oh. That kind of out,” He teases as he slams the fridge door close, before running to his room and tossing something in Jongin’s direction.

The items in Jongin’s hand are enough to make his entire body flush. “Have fun on your dick appointment, Ninibear. I'm proud of you.” Baekhyun says, all too triumphant when he sees Jongin sputter in their living room with a packet of lube and a strip of condoms in his hand.

—

Kyungsoo wasn’t joking when he said Security was kind of tight here. 

The taxi he was in got inspected thoroughly by K9s and a big security officer who stared at Jongin down so hard that he squirmed in his seat when he presented his identification as Kyungsoo’s guest, his eyes boring into Jongin’s even as he spoke to the older man at the phone to confirm things with him.

Kyungsoo also neglected to say that he lived in a gated compound of villas deep into Hannam-dong, Jongin staring slack-jawed at the high-rises with a single square foot as expensive as a month of their shared rent in the university town, all too surprised when the taxi driver rolled up in front of the three-story villa directly overlooking the Han river.

Kyungsoo’s sleek black Maserati is nowhere to be seen but judging by the driveway leading up into the side, it’s the garage. Jongin would never admit it out loud, he thinks its owner is just as sexy and expensive as his hundred-thousand-dollar car, if not more.

The taxi fare makes him wince a bit, but in the time he has been dating Kyungsoo, he has never shouldered the bill even if he offers. Sometimes Kyungsoo doesn’t even let him see the bill holder, only slipping a black credit card into it and passing it onto the waitstaff with a poised smile.

He tips twenty per cent too. What a dream.

Never tell Jongin he doesn’t put any effort into his dating life when he’s up at the asscrack of dawn on the other side of the city, ringing the doorbell and being greeted by Kyungsoo’s big smile. “Hey, hope the drive wasn’t too long.” Kyungsoo comments, opening his arms for a brief hug before he’s being pulled into the house. 

“Not much traffic, security check took much longer to be honest.” Jongin whispers, to which Kyungsoo shrugs his shoulders when he takes out a pair of slippers for him to use.

“With my neighbours, it’s a necessity. The American Ambassador’s kid did turn up some hell a few months ago, much to his father’s delight. The Ambassador to France had a few choice words for the kid when he yelled at him three houses down.” 

Jongin comes to the realisation that Kyungsoo is probably the sole bachelor in the area, but he suits the area, much more the foreign dignitaries he shares property boundaries with. “His assistant sent us all apology letters in the mail, to excuse his french.”

More often than not, old money always had the upper hand, and Kyungsoo was old, old, _ old _ money despite their anonymity in the public eye, according to Jongin’s research into the Dohs. 

“Kinda thought you’d be living in Gangnam-gu for some reason, like in Apgujeong-dong.” Jongin breathes out, removing his sneakers by the hall and switching them for the soft house slippers before he’s openly ogling the high ceilings of the older man’s house and admiring the lighting fixtures spiralling down from it.

“I used to before the renovations were done five years ago.” Kyungsoo calmly speaks on, setting Jongin’s bag down onto his couch. 

“It is a beautiful home, though, it’s quiet.” Jongin remarks, staring unabashedly at the modern interior of Kyungsoo’s house and appreciating the simple but sophisticated decor, and the dark colours complementing the wood accents around. It didn’t seem like Kyungsoo looked like the type of man who boasted about his money to anyone interested enough to listen, most of the decor being practical or toned down to his tastes.

It was a sensible home, for sensible man, albeit being too big for a single person.

“Thank you, but I can’t take credit for all of it. Chanyeol did most of the interior designing. I mostly did the layout.” Kyungsoo answers, tugging Jongin’s denim jacket off his shoulders before hanging it in a coat closet. “I’ll show you around, come on. Also, would you like something to drink?”

“Water’s fine for now.” Once he’s been provided with a glass of water, Kyungsoo tugs at his arm to head back into the entryway, waving his arm around the closet beside Jongin. “Coat closet, shoe rack.” He starts, dragging Jongin gently behind him. “Living room with an open space kitchen and dining room,” Kyungsoo points at the door by the kitchen. “Pantry, powder room and the door to the garage on that side.”

Once they head up the first flight of stairs, Kyungsoo shows him around one of the two moderately decorated guest bedrooms and a bathroom down the hall lined by closets, before he shows Jongin the master bedroom and en suite bathroom and walk-in closet.

His personal office is on the topmost floor, Kyungsoo explains to him as they head up the final flight of stairs, and Jongin finds himself in awe of the amazing view of the city lights reflecting on the Han river from Kyungsoo’s desk in the middle of the room to the floor-length windows. 

The wall to the right has a glass board on it with a hand-drawn calendar drawn onto it, Kyungsoo’s measured script detailing his agenda for the month while its borders are littered with colour coordinated post its per item, all filled with jargons or foreign-sounding names, and the entirety of the following week blocked out for his trip to Singapore. 

Jongin also notices the other wall lined up with Kyungsoo’s undergraduate and graduate degrees, and the shelf below it is showcasing a handful of achievements and a few framed pictures of a much younger looking version of Junmyeon, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo in high school and university, young faces pulled into big, boisterous grins. 

Kyungsoo’s family is also present on the shelf, and Jongin thinks Kyungsoo is the perfect mix of his parents’ features with his mother’s soulful eyes and full lips, with his father’s strong jaw and straight nose. His brother looks like an older, rugged-looking version of him. Kyungsoo notices him staring at the picture and starts digging into his drawer, pulling out a smaller frame with a baby picture inside it and handing into Jongin’s hands. 

“That’s me, at my Dol.” Jongin coos at the picture of a baby dressed colourful hanbok. “You were adorable.” Baby Kyungsoo looks like he’s drowning under the silk of his clothes, doe eyes staring deep into the camera as he grips what seems like a ruler in one chubby fist and one of the flaps of his hokgeon on the other. “My dad jokingly put down a ruler with the other items I was supposed to choose from, and I chose it.”

“Born to be an architect, huh?” Jongin jokes, handing it back to Kyungsoo who looks at the picture almost fondly. Kyungsoo almost chortles at the comment though, shaking his head. 

“God no, I was really bad at math. I couldn’t even draw a straight line, but I did like designing my houses. Guess I just went on from there.” He sets the baby picture on the tidy desk over his iPad before he turns to Jongin, clasping his hand around Jongin’s. “But enough of that, let’s go back down.”

“We’re gonna have dinner now?” Jongin asks, feeling all too out of place in his pullover, even with Kyungsoo’s all-black tee and Nike sweats ensemble. “Yep,” Kyungsoo answers, turning into a corner and walking behind an island with Jongin trailing him slowly on the hardwood. “Sit wherever you like.”

Kyungsoo’s taking out fried chicken boxes out of a plastic bag, tearing cling film and foil lids off a platter of Tteokbokki and taking out beer bottles and popping their lids off from from the fridge with a measured pace to his actions, ending it all with setting a plate down in front of Jongin on the counter. “Shall we?” 

“That’s a lot of food,” Jongin says when he makes himself comfortable on the barstool, grinning at Kyungsoo as he plops a rice cake into his mouth and savouring the sweet burn of the sauce on his tongue. “Oh, this is great. It’s a good thing all my dance classes are done for the semester, or this will all show on my belly tomorrow.” 

Kyungsoo chuckles at the remark, dipping his chicken tender into the bright sauce smothering the white rice cakes, much to Jongin’s affronted expression. “No,” He gasps out, unable to smother the surprised sound from the back of his throat as Kyungsoo happily takes a bite of his combination. 

“How dare you. Fried chicken is divine on its own. We have to break up. I can’t do this.” Jongin says dramatically, but his love for fried chicken had been a deep-rooted into his subconscious, and what Kyungsoo had done had seemed like a personal affront.

“Why?” Kyungsoo reaches over to do the entire thing again—picks up a chicken tender between his chopsticks, smothering it in tteokbokki sauce—offering it towards Jongin with an expectant look to his face. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Jongin. Just try it.” He insists, pushing the piece closer to Jongin’s lips until the younger begrudgingly takes a small bite, frowning as he chews on it.

The way Kyungsoo’s throat bobs when he takes a swig of his beer makes Jongin’s throat burn without the sauce, but he acquiesces to Kyungsoo’s small yet triumphant smile when he takes the entire piece into his mouth. “Not bad, not as good as the chicken on its own though.” Jongin bites the inside of his cheek to hide his liking for the combination.

Also, because Kyungsoo smiling this certain way makes him look like the polite cat meme with the sides of his upper lip dimpling gently under his scrunched cheeks and the crow’s feet around his eyes. He looks younger, adorable, it’s all too unfair.

“So, how did you find out about this combination?” Jongin asks in between alternate bites of chicken and rice cakes, washing his food down with the ice-cold beer on a bamboo coaster stained a deep charcoal grey. Carbs are always a good idea until they start to make his belly and thighs softer in the long run. 

No matter, he can always go for a run in the quad and let his lungs burn inside his ribs for twenty minutes. 

“I was working overseas for a month to oversee a project I headed a few years ago. I think it was around in Metro Manila, in their business district. Don’t get me wrong—Filipino food was absolutely phenomenal,” Kyungsoo explains, taking sips of his beer here and there, “but I just missed Korean food so much that I called my assistant to order me fried chicken and tteokbokki as soon as I landed in Incheon.” 

Jongin smiles in his seat across Kyungsoo, watching him laugh and shake his head at himself for his antics as continued eating. “I never ate so fast in my life. I was using the chicken as a spoon to get a piece of tteok into my mouth. I just wanted it all in my mouth, Jongin.” Kyungsoo explains in between the interruptions of his deep laughter.

“I couldn’t go to work the next day though because I just ate myself into a food coma to the point that I got myself sick. Didn’t eat this until a month later again though,” Kyungsoo rubbed at his belly, the thin fabric of his t-shirt stretched over his shoulders and chest, but Jongin’s attention mostly lingered at the veins lining Kyungsoo’s forearms. 

He rubs at his lobe to shift his attention, fidgeting with the studs on his ear. “It’s too heavy to have all the time, especially with the beer.”

“Your abs would disappear under all of it,” Jongin completes his thought for him, grinning when Kyungsoo patted at his belly for good measure. “Exactly, then all those hours at the gym would go waste.”

“I think you’d still look great even if you’re a little soft around the edges,” Jongin comments, and that gets a grin from Kyungsoo. “You’re a darling, but I don’t think so.”

“Looks like we have the same guilty pleasure in food, I mostly eat chicken during term breaks when I don’t have to watch my body as much.” Jongin admits, “It’s harder to do some of the moves when I’m heavier, and we can’t deny that if I lived off takeout I would lose a lot of pocket money and gain it back in pounds.”

He catches Kyungsoo’s face shift under the lights, but Jongin plays it off as a trick of the light brought about by late hours and the fullness of his stomach making him sleepy.

Conversation flows easily between then under the warm lights of Kyungsoo’s immaculate kitchen, the light bouncing off of the chrome of his espresso machine in the corner and the Damascus blade of his knives hanging off a magnet strip over the sink, the smell of fried food and spicy sauce mingling in the air. 

They talk about current pressing topics—Kyungsoo’s upcoming business trip to Singapore, Jongin’s remaining deliverables in the following week that had the younger chugging his third bottle of beer in a desperate attempt to not think about the unfinished paper sitting in his laptop inside his backpack. 

“Oh god, I’m still hung up about it. There’s a part of me that’s happy that I didn’t have to submit a half-assed paper, but at the same time, I just want to be rid of it. I’ll finish it tomorrow—later, I mean.” Jongin corrects himself, already feeling a little full between the drinks and fried chicken. 

“That’s good, lessen the things to think about,” comes the soft hum from Kyungsoo, then the question follows. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much do you spend per semester?”

“I’m actually on scholarship, so I don’t pay much. Most of the money I get from assisting goes to rent, bills and groceries.” Jongin makes the mental calculations in his head, trying to recall the figures but it doesn’t come to him with the slight haze of alcohol in his blood. 

“It’s a great help, but really competitive. I have to put in the hours to make sure I reach the criteria at the end of every semester to maintain it, in between working as a student assistant.”

“Sounds like you’re spreading yourself too thin, by the way, how do you feel about ice cream?” Kyungsoo murmurs as he cleans up their used plates and cutlery, packing the remainder of the food in Tupperwares and pulling out a pint of Häagen-Dazs. 

Jongin groans from the island, but he doesn’t say no. “You are going to be the death of me.” He says, already picking at the lid and scooping spoonfuls to his mouth.

“I get by,” Jongin sighs when he picks up the conversation where it was left. “After all, this is what I really wanted, I need to make sure I deserve it because I gave it all up to pursue Dance. I’m halfway done with Junior year too.”

Kyungsoo goes makes a move to wash the dishes, and Jongin’s hopping off his chair to stand beside him, already pulling his sleeves up. “Yes?”

“I wanna help, and I’m not going to take no for an answer.” Jongin answers, tugging at a dish towel hanging off the oven handle. Kyungsoo lets out a surprised laugh, staring at the younger male a beat too long before going back to dipping his hands into the sudsy water. “Alright.”

“I’d like to make you an offer,” Jongin has overheard Kyungsoo say those words on a project bidding, but they lack the same professional efficacy or sharpness to the words when Kyungsoo murmurs them to him in the silence of his kitchen, whilst handing a plate for Jongin to dry.

“If you’d let me,” The older man starts before he trails off, gauging his reaction. “I’d like to help you. Financially.”

Jongin doesn’t drop the expensive-looking plate and sets it on a drying rack in front of him, but he does go stiff at the formal offer. Strangely, he expected things to go down this line—insanely rich, overly generous older man taking a young, pretty faced, struggling college kid to expensive dates, gifting him with presents Jongin had stopped looking up due to the astronomical prices—it was only a matter of time of course. 

Though, it still takes Jongin by surprise. The thing about making Kyungsoo his sugar daddy had been a long running joke between Baekhyun and Jongin, Jongin had no actual plans to take it seriously, but it seems like Kyungsoo plans to. “That’s nice of you, Kyungsoo, but no, thank you. I can cope.” Jongin supplies, smiling at him thinly.

“If you’re thinking that it has a catch, there’s none.” Kyungsoo speaks clearly despite how low his voice has dropped, it’s soothing, but Jongin is reluctant, suddenly reminded of the paper bags filled with designer clothing and foreign products sitting in the back of his closet, unopened and unused. 

“What we have now is fine with me. We don’t need to progress beyond this if you don’t want to. I like your company, baby.” Kyungsoo finishes with the dishes and helps Jongin dry the rest, leaning back on the island and crossing his arms.

The pet name is back, deep and pleasing before Kyungsoo is stepping towards him and reaching out to trap him between the counters.

“I’m aware that I have way too much money, and frankly, I don’t know where to spend it on.” Kyungsoo’s hands settle on Jongin’s waist, to guide him closer. 

“How about retirement? God knows I need to start saving up early, with my bad knees.” Jongin murmurs, watching the sun peek through the clouds on the glass wall of the living room, the dark blue sky with growing tinged with soft pinks and bright corals. 

“Between my inheritance and my investments outside the firm, I could retire today and still have too much for myself.” That was a nice way to say that he had money to burn. Jongin doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he decides to set them on Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

Kyungsoo’s eyes shine as they stare up at Jongin, delighted at the action. “I could take care of you. I _ want _ to take care of you. Will you let me?”

“You might lose interest in me, and I don’t want to depend on anyone else for my education.” 

“I actually find you incredibly interesting, and I’m not telling you to slack off on your performance, I’m saying I can alleviate some of the stress of making sure that you have a roof over your head. Making sure you’re not making yourself sick with Ramyeon three days a week.” 

Jongin feels himself get pulled towards Kyungsoo’s shoulder and his body thrums with the proximity of a warm body pressed against his that isn’t Baekhyun. He buries his head into the side of Kyungsoo’s neck, inhaling the clean scent of his body wash without the familiar spice of Kyungsoo’s usual perfume on his skin. 

“Are you asking me to quit my job?”

“No, but maybe you can render lesser hours. Concentrate on dance, your studies, or to let your body recuperate on the strain. Save the money you earn from there for a rainy day and let me handle things.”

“Honestly Kyungsoo,” Jongin speaks, slurring his words with his exhaustion. It would’ve been five am by the latest now, and he had been up since seven the day before for his final class in Ballet styles for the semester. The urge to relinquish control is all too tempting to Jongin, especially when Kyungsoo makes him feel secure. “The extended sleeping hours are the most appealing thing you’ve told me tonight.” 

Kyungsoo’s presence almost feels like a weighted blanket at this point of their courtship, grounding and comfort personified, but Jongin decides to break the silence as he points something out. “The ice cream’s melting.”

“I’ll take care of it. Do you want to go to bed? I prepared the guest room for you.” Kyungsoo asks, running his fingers down the line of Jongin’s spine over the fleece of the younger male’s pullover. “Yeah sure, but I think I forgot my toothbrush at home.” 

Jongin feels the deep rumbles of Kyungsoo’s low chuckles against his shoulder. “There’s one in the guest bathroom drawer.” 

“Can I ask for one thing though, before we sleep?”

“Anything?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Jongin asks when he lifts his head off Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “We’ve been dating for six months now, and you’ve offered to be my sugar daddy of all things before you did. Why not?” His tone comes out a touch too whiny and accusatory, but Jongin would probably jump into the Han just for a smooch at this point.

“Didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.” Came the low admission from Kyungsoo.

“I wanted you to kiss me by the fourth month, by the fifth month I thought I just had bad breath, by the sixth I was just wondering when you were going to break me down gently because you just weren’t interested.” Jongin’s confession pulls another one of Kyungsoo’s deep laughs from his chest. “You don’t need to treat me like a baby, I’m twenty-two, Kyungsoo.”

“You forget I’m eleven years older than you.”

“I’m also a consenting adult, Soo.” Jongin is slow to respond, blinking away sleep from his eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

Kyungsoo smiles at him, warm hands on Jongin’s back as the younger dares to comb his fingers through the shorter strands at his nape. “You’re my baby, though.” He whispers, leaning down to plant a kiss on Jongin’s cheek. “My baby’s whose falling asleep in the kitchen. Come on, go to bed. You have plans in a couple of hours.”

Jongin lets out a grunt, untangling himself from Kyungsoo and heads up the stairs, straight to the guest bathroom to rummage through for a toothbrush, much to Kyungsoo’s amusement. Kyungsoo disappears into his own for a couple of minutes and reappears into Jongin’s bedroom for the night with a change of clothes in his hands for Jongin, the tips of his shorter hair wet from his nightly routine. 

“I bought you a change of clothes,” Kyungsoo says, but Jongin is reaching out to tug him closer by the pockets of his sweatpants. “Oh, you’re cuddly. Like a little bear.”

“Baekhyun calls me Ninibear. Thought I was your baby. You called me that like six times tonight.”

“Really? You counted?”

“Thought it was a slip of the tongue.” 

“It was, at first. You didn’t point it out, wanted to see if you were going to tell me to stop.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop, didn’t I? Like it. Sounds nice.”

“Already making demands?”

“You still haven’t given me what I asked for. Thought you were going to take care of me.”

Kyungsoo tangles his fingers back into Jongin’s hair before he’s tipping his head back and leaning down to meet Jongin’s lips halfway, before stopping himself and pressing their foreheads together. Kyungsoo studies his face closely—the line of frustration in his brows, the half-lidded eyes, and the tongue that slips out to wet his slight chapped lips.

The wetness makes Jongin’s lips shine from the light coming in from the hall, and he speaks when he feels Kyungsoo not getting any closer. “Are you going to make me wait for more?” Jongin’s lips graze Kyungsoo’s a bit when he speaks, raspy with a peculiar mix of want and exhaustion, with a touch of desperation. 

“Maybe,” Kyungsoo replies, inching closer to Jongin when he feels the arms around his waist and hips. “Wanted to see how long I can drag this out until you ask me properly for the things you want from me.”

Jongin can feel the heavy weight of Kyungsoo’s words, well aware of the extent of his words, the subtle glide of his lips as he enunciates every word of his sentence. He could almost smell and taste the sugary balm on Kyungsoo’s lips, feels the spike of temperature in the room. 

Jongin realises that after this, there is a possibility of things changing between them—a shift in their current dynamics—but this is Kyungsoo’s way of giving him an out, by only giving him things he’s asked for. Kyungsoo’s laugh reverberates between the tiny space between them, pulling back to press his pointer finger in the space between his eyebrows. “You’re thinking too much.”

“Just thinking about if going to bed without a kiss is worth it.” Jongin opens his eyes and looks up at Kyungsoo giving him a measured smile. “Kiss me, please.” He pleads, voice and intent very much clear to the older man.

Kyungsoo’s eyes glimmer with unconcealed pride, perhaps with a speck of satisfaction in the deep browns of his irises when he leans back in, hands sure around the curve of Jongin’s jaw. “See what using your words can do.” He whispers, before swooping down to close the distance between their lips.

The older male angles his head down to take Jongin’s lower lip between his own, sucking at it gently while Jongin could only attempt to mirror the motions, unable to quiet the pleased moan from his chest at their lips finally pressing wetly against each other. 

Jongin lets out a sharp breath at the sensation from his nose, fingers curling into the back of Kyungsoo’s shirt when he feels the older’s tongue licking at the seam of his lips. He parts his mouth and lowers his jaw and then gasping at the sharp sweetness of mint when Kyungsoo licks between his lips, letting loud an embarrassingly loud moan that makes Kyungsoo smile before he’s sliding his tongue into Jongin’s mouth.

Jongin has definitely kissed a number of people in his lifetime—with his ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends spaced far in between in the occasional game of seven minutes in heaven he had been subjected to in the handful of college parties, and the rare hookups. Jongin knows the rudimentary basics of how to kiss someone, but Jongin has definitely never kissed anyone the way Kyungsoo does.

It was a blessing in disguise that Jongin has been sitting on the bed before things had escalated, because Kyungsoo kisses like a man determined to coax Jongin into pliant, gasping, boneless mess before him effortlessly. 

Jongin wants to fall back into the bed, wants Kyungsoo between his thighs and his hands curling in his hair as he kisses him like a dream, with his plush, full lips in a push and pull with Jongin and all the experience to back it all up. 

He subtly pulls back to get what he wants—to be pressed into the bed and kissed until his lungs are desperate for air—and gets exactly that and more when Kyungsoo chases after his lips, knees digging into the mattress as gravity presses their lips harder against one another when they fall onto the sheets. 

Kyungsoo makes the move to pull back but the desperate keen that leaves Jongin’s lips cuts his plans abruptly, opting to kiss him deeper until Jongin is digging his head into the thick comforter and arching back to kiss Kyungsoo with the same tenacity, the deep groan deep from Kyungsoo’s throat making him moan between their sealed lips.

They part lips with a wet sound and a thread of saliva between their bottom lips that Kyungsoo licks away, Jongin’s chest heaving as Kyungsoo pecks his lips softly one last time before he’s kissing his cheek and hanging his head between his arms as he catches his breath. Jongin makes the move to speak, but his voice comes out raspy. “That was nice,” He groans out, breathing hard as Kyungsoo tips his head up to stare at him.

Jongin could only assume how he looks like underneath Kyungsoo in the dimmed morning light, hair dishevelled between the older’s fingers, skin flushed from his cheeks to his chest and lips swollen from what Jongin now acknowledges as the best kiss of his life. He desperately wants more, but the need for rest is weighing his eyes down, he’ll settle with this for now.

Kyungsoo looks less of a wreck, the only indication of what has just transpired is the slick redness of his lips and the blown-out irises of his eyes and furrow between his thick brows. “It was.” His voice has dropped an octave or two, and Jongin somehow takes pride in having played a part in that even if he’s sweating in his pullover. 

“I think it’s time for bed.” The smile Kyungsoo gives him warms his belly up pleasantly before he’s leaning down to press a chaste kiss on Jongin’s lips again. He murmurs, stealing another kiss from Jongin without making a move to get up. “A little more.” Jongin reaches up to run his fingers on Kyungsoo’s shorter hair and arching up to meet his kisses. 

“Okay, just a little more.” Kyungsoo acquiesces, while Jongin feels the temperature of the room drop into something more pleasant and less heated, humming when Kyungsoo kisses him once on the temple before pulling away. “I’ll leave you to rest.” He says, before closing the door behind him with a gentle click. 

Jongin doesn’t even mull the kiss—the short make-out session they had, exhaustion creeping up his spine as the adrenaline fizzles out and leaves him curled up on the bed, snoring softly.

—

The talk of Kyungsoo supporting Jongin financially was swept under the table after Jongin was dropped by at the station by the afternoon with the older of the two leaning in to kiss Jongin on the cheek before he got out of the car, parting with him with some choice words. “Think about what I offered, then we’ll talk about it when I get back next weekend.”

Jongin hates how muddled his mind gets around Kyungsoo, especially when he almost misses his stop and makes a fool of himself in the subway when he reaches to rub an eye before he remembers only wearing his glasses because he forgot to pack an extra pair of contacts before going to Kyungsoo’s. 

“How are you stressed for who looks like they got laid last night?” Sehun asks, poised back on his chair with his stupidly perfect posture and his hands on the keys of his laptop.

“I didn’t get laid.”

“So, you got lip injections then?” Sehun says before rolling his eyes at him. Jongin makes up an easy lie on the spot that Sehun believes right away, rather than telling his friend that he was up all night making out with his older boyfriend after he got offered to be a sugar baby in his stupidly expensive house. 

“Tried a chapstick last night. I think I’m allergic to something in it.” Jongin uses up a memory of his childhood allergies to strawberries, that eating one makes his lips and mouth swell terribly.

“Ooh,” Sehun whistles, “Bummer.”

“How’s your paper going?” Jongin tries to whisk the topic from his kiss swollen lips and back onto the real important issues. Sehun lets out a sound of displeasure that is thankfully muffled by the glass of the rented group study rooms in the library. “I’m still trying to grind out something that makes sense, I do have enough to make it work. How about you?”

“I don’t know how to conclude the paper. That’s the entire thing I’m struggling with.”

“Shit, you’re almost done?”

“Yeah, I finished the references earlier because I didn't know how to elaborate.” Jongin finishes lamely, staring at the drafted conclusion on the back of his notebook. “Goddamn, if a former English major can’t get through this, how can I?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Jongin says, doodling a bear cub on the margin his notebook. “You’ll be able to finish it before the deadline.”

Somehow, both Jongin and Sehun managed to grind through the paper and editing it before the library had closed for the weekend at nine pm, Sehun almost screeching in joy with the final paper in his hands. “Let’s get food?”

“Sure.”

They find themselves deep in a food stall a few streets away from campus, seated on plastic stools as Sehun stuffs his face with chicken skewers while Jongin mournfully munches on a stick of Omuk, still preoccupied with Kyungsoo’s offer. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Would you ever let someone else pay for your schooling?” Jongin goes straight to the point and Sehun reacts much calmer than he expected, munching on a piece of barbequed chicken. “I already do? My dad pays for it in exchange for my silence.”

“What? I thought you paid for everything?”

“I still pay for my half of rent and other things. I used to pay tuition until I discovered my dad having a new affair while mum was out of town, and he forced me to keep quiet about it,” Sehun looks so nonchalant about the entire thing, lips turning down into a frown.

“He suddenly sent in a few million won to my account the following day, doesn’t even know mum was already aware of his first mistress back then. Mum says just keep quiet until she and her divorce attorney come up with a deal.”

Jongin sips on his drink quietly, shocked by Sehun’s revelation. “I thought you were on scholarship? Why do you ask?”

“I still am, but the other things I pay for. I don’t know, just kinda curious.”

“You probably think I’m emotionally manipulating my dad into giving me but in all honesty, he paid me to hide an affair. I’m just the lesser evil.”

“Your mum knows about it.”

“She plans to use it to get bigger alimony. My parents are messed up, don’t worry about them.” Sehun waves his hand around as if to dissipate the topic. “I mean, I don’t think its a bad idea to have someone help. You are working overtime constantly, I don’t know how you do it.”

Jongin comes clean to Baekhyun when he comes home that night, while Baekhyun looks like he just rolled off the bed with his silvery hair a mess on his head and the crease on his cheek. “Term break is a good look you.” Jongin comments and the slow nod Baekhyun gives is answer enough.

“I have something to tell you, though.”

“Shoot. My brain’s like, somewhat recuperated after the five months of stress.” Baekhyun answers as he sips on a can of red bull for no apparent reason anymore. It’s probably his Pavlovian response at nine pm to keep his brain awake until two in the morning when studying is an actual chore to him during the height of a semester. 

“Kyungsoo’s offered,” Jongin says in a small voice, sitting down on their dining table. Baekhyun’s expression urges him to keep talking. “He’s offered to support me as Chanyeol does with you.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing yet. I fell asleep before I could mull it over.” Jongin admits.

“You fell asleep?” Baekhyun lets out a guffaw, laughing into his hand. “So, nothing happened last night?”

Aside from their first kiss and first make-out session happening after two seconds between them, nothing. Jongin chooses to hide that from Baekhyun in the meantime.

“I went to the compound where he lives, we had a late dinner. He gave me a tour of the villa, and we had a really late dinner at three in the morning.” Jongin lists what happened before the conversation had turned in that direction. 

“We talked about uni, then he offered. Told me he had too much money and that he wanted to take care of me. That nothing needed to change if I didn’t want it to.”

“Why is that the most Kyungsoo thing he’s done I’ve ever heard?” Baekhyun says in between sips, “Okay, what’s bothering you?”

“I don’t want to depend on him, or anyone really. There’s a part of me that thinks supporting a college kid is a waste of his money.”

“Between the both of us, supporting you is never a waste of money. You’re in the most prestigious university for Ballet, on a scholarship. You’re not going around slacking off, you’re insanely talented.” Baekhyun rattles off, “If you think he’s going to get bored of you, then Kyungsoo’s a piece of shit if he does.”

Jongin drums his fingers on the cheap laminate before Baekhyun reaches out to hold his hand. “It’s not a bad thing to ask for help, I’ve been through that. Your own pride is a hard thing to wrestle with, but ultimately, I just thought—fuck it, I’ll try it out, got a fake name and everything. Three years later, I hang out with someone who is worlds apart from me that buys me a cake on my birthday, so we can eat it on a Marvel binge in his apartment.” 

“I still work for my necessities, I made it known to Chanyeol that I’m not someone he can keep in a penthouse under lock and key, and fuck on demand in exchange for the latest Yeezy drop or a hefty cheque. He doesn’t mind the fact that I argue, or that I’m unavailable for certain days because of school because we’ve set boundaries.” He continues, reaching in the middle of the table to peel an orange, offering half to Jongin as he pops a wedge in his mouth. 

“The arrangement works like any other relationship, Jongin. Think about what you want and tell him, and listen to what he wants, then you compromise. If that’s a bust, then say it was great and the rest of your niceties and get out.” Baekhyun finishes, getting up to wrap his arms around Jongin’s shoulders. 

“It’ll be fine. Kyungsoo’s a decent guy, he’ll understand whatever you choose to do. If not, well, we both know where he works. We can egg his office.” Jongin lets out a high-pitched laugh when he imagines Baekhyun in his tight coiled fury wielding an egg to fling it at Kyungsoo. “You’re a great friend, B.”

“I’m the best friend ever,” Baekhyun rebuts, but he doesn’t let go of Jongin and kissing him on the temple. “Can’t explain why it’s taken you this long to realise that.”

—

After Jongin submits his last deliverable for the semester, Jongin sends a text to Kyungsoo just before he leaves for Singapore, just to let Kyungsoo know that he’s not running away from the conversation. He keeps it simple though Baekhyun admonishes it for sounding extremely cold to the older man, Jongin argues that he was just being respectful.

He does add an emoji, in an attempt to alleviate his case.

_ Hi _

_ Hope you have a safe flight today. _

_ Let me know when you get back. _

_ :) _

Kyungsoo does manage to text back.

_ Hey, thank you. _

Baekhyun reads his reply over Jongin’s shoulder, wrinkling his nose and mumbling about dry texters, though the follow up makes him snort and Jongin choke on his milk tea.

_ See you soon, baby. _

Jongin feels like a week is too long to start mulling things over, but this talk involved money and where it would go. He didn’t want to take things in stride and dive into these sort of things headfirst and risk getting hurt or hurting anyone. Jongin trusted Kyungsoo—Kyungsoo had certainly earned it the past few months of talking with him. He was curt, polite and proper, had a wicked sense of humour that matched Jongin’s.

He was the trifecta of what Jongin looked for in a person, but it felt like he was taking advantage of Kyungsoo’s kindness and generosity by letting him pay for the place he lived in, and in exchange for what, a few hours of companionship?

Jongin doesn’t think it’s a fair trade at all. He’d get a better pay off with a puppy, he follows up bitterly. Baekhyun begs to differ, yet again, lounging on Jongin’s bed as he lays on the floor with a crisis on his hands.

“Jongin, for us people bound to get stuck on a desk job, or are already stuck to a desk job, it’s incredibly boring,” His best friend reasons out, “Dogs are great. I would kill anyone and myself if something happened to Mongryong, but you can’t exactly take a dog to the cinema and dissect movies as Kyungsoo does with you.”

“I doubt Kyungsoo can bring a dog to a Michelin star restaurant to introduce his favourite dishes to,” He whips out a chocolate wafer from a jar and chews on it thoughtfully, making promises to vacuum Jongin’s bed in return. 

“You and I know it’s lonely to be attached to your career. That is why I think he needs companionship,” Baekhyun waves a half-eaten wafer in the air. “Someone to treat to a wine and dine, maybe even a sixty-nine if he’s feeling up to it.”

“Hyung!”

“What! I’m just being honest. No one’s that nice and polite without a little undercurrent,” The flat look that Jongin gives Baekhyun makes him squirm on the threadbare sheets. “Hell, you don’t look as straightlaced as you think you are.”

The thought of Kyungsoo between his legs does leave him all too hot under the collar, those dark eyes looking down at him with unconcealed and palpable want that makes Jongin want to submit and be good for him, desperate to hear the deep rumble of ‘_ baby’ _ rolling off of Kyungsoo’s tongue.

“You thought about it, didn’t you? Are you excited to get railed until seven ways to Sunday when he gets back?” Baekhyun asks, a smirk on his face as he swings his legs in the air and unable to duck away from the nearest thing Jongin was able to fling at him, which is a balled-up pair of dirty socks that hits him square in the forehead. 

Jongin does end up accepting the offer after three full days of thinking about it, in the middle of Kyungsoo’s business trip. He texts a simple sentence to Kyungsoo in the middle of the night, stuffing his phone under his pillow before passing out. 

_ I accept your offer. _

The older man doesn’t reply to Jongin’s message, but Jongin sees the little read receipt at ten in the morning the following day. 

Kyungsoo does reach out to call him upon his arrival back in Seoul a week later, after an early Saturday flight from Changi. Jongin nearly drops his phone into the sink full of water when he sees who was calling, muffling a cuss before setting it to loud-speaker on the counter. “Hello, Jongin? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m in the middle of washing dishes, sorry. I almost dropped a glass.” Jongin winces at the white lie he tells Kyungsoo, but he consoles himself by promising his full honesty once they get the chance to talk about their soon changing relationship dynamic.

“I was just calling to say that I’m back in Seoul now, and I wanted to know if you’re available tonight.” Kyungsoo trails off, and Jongin immediately understands what the purpose of this meeting without Kyungsoo mentioning it explicitly. After all, it’s been on his mind since the previous week. “Yeah, I’m free.”

“Do you want to come over to my place? So, we can have dinner, talk.”

“Of course. What time should I come over?” Jongin tries valiantly to quash down the nerves over the conversation that would take place tonight. “I’ll send a driver for you around half past six, is that alright?”

“Yeah. That’s good. That’s fine with me.” The younger breathes out, nodding despite Kyungsoo being unable to see it. “Great,” Kyungsoo almost whispers, before he clears his throat stiffly. “See you.”

—

Kyungsoo’s driver is silent throughout the entire trip—Jongin is thankful for that, unable to keep up with small talk at all but he fidgets a lot in the backseat of a black Mercedes that he has never seen Kyungsoo use before, his right leg shaking during rush hour traffic.

He isn’t subjected to the long security checks or identity identification anymore, rolling into the compound as soon as the gates opened with nothing more than a quick question to the driver.

Jongin clambers out of the car appropriately fast when he pulls over into Kyungsoo’s driveway, mumbling thank yous to the driver as he gets out and is left standing on the curb across the familiar villa. He heaves out a shaky breath that rattles his lungs, taking one last look into the last rays of sunshine reflecting onto the Han river and walking up to Kyungsoo’s door. 

It’s now or never, he guesses. 

The older man opens the door to him after two rings of the doorbell, smiling at Jongin as he welcomes him into the home before he’s crowding slightly into his space, gauging Jongin’s bewildered expression with an unreadable look on his face. “Hi,” Jongin breathes, unconsciously leaning towards Kyungsoo.

Cautiously, Kyungsoo puts his hands on Jongin’s waist, palms warm over the silky fabric of his dress shirt as he keeps watching Jongin, waiting for a reaction. Jongin is touch shaken over the careful and measured touches, blushing under the intensity of Kyungsoo’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t shy away from it—doesn’t shy away from Kyungsoo as much.

“Hello, you smell nice.” Kyungsoo’s eyes look somewhat pleased, and Jongin tries not to preen at the subtle praise. He finally relented and used a handful of Kyungsoo’s gifts to show his willingness towards an arrangement, and he has to admit, it feels nice. 

Jongin feels expensive. Jongin almost feels as if he’s claimed by Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo’s eyes soften before he’s leaning in closer and greeting Jongin with a short, yet deep kiss that makes his eyes flutter shut and let out a slow breath from his nose, the ball of tension in his belly unravelling. No word of a lie, he likes the development, adores the touches after months of skirting around each other.

He feels Kyungsoo’s palm slide down to his hips as he pulls away, not crowding into Jongin’s space anymore. “Was traffic bad?” 

“Kind of. It is the weekend.” Jongin murmurs thoughtfully as he hands Kyungsoo his coat and removes his shoes by the door, falling back to a routine introduced to him a week ago as if a myriad of things hadn’t changed at all. 

Kyungsoo is polite, but at the same time, Kyungsoo allows himself the small leeway Jongin has given him to enjoy. Jongin can only think about when he can shake off the shyness and enjoy Kyungsoo’s attention and possibly demand even more, but at the rate they’re going now with Kyungsoo kissing him out of the blue, Jongin guesses it won’t be soon before long.

Dinner goes well without a hitch—Kyungsoo did all the cooking from the appetiser, down to dessert. Everything that is on the table is delicious, and Jongin manages to finish everything despite the unease of the talk that was about to come. He sips his wine with a dazed look to his eyes that Kyungsoo stops to observe him carefully when they move to the living room, sinking into the plush grey chairs across each other. “Are you alright?”

Jongin’s gaze shifts to Kyungsoo from the particularly interesting patch of the rug, and he nods, albeit slowly. “Yes, I’m fine, just thinking.”

Kyungsoo’s posture shifts when those words leave Jongin’s mouth, swallowing a mouthful of scotch before scooting up the cushions. “I guess we do need to talk about that. Go ahead, ask me whatever you want to know.” He waits for Jongin to speak, who seems to have been fueled by liquid courage. “How will this work?” 

“To put it bluntly, I’ll be paying you to spend time with me, for your company.” Kyungsoo states, clearly having thought about it. Jongin fidgets with his glass, dragging his fingers on the condensation. “What do you expect from me?” Jongin manages to say as he looks Kyungsoo in the eyes with an extraordinary amount of courage.

“Mostly this, have a meal with me, texts, calls, dates.” Kyungsoo lists, “someone to bring to a company event to ward of the eager matchmakers.” The sentence makes Jongin smile, small as he lowers his eyes again to rack his brain for questions. 

Jongin is suddenly washed with a sense of calmness over the easiness of the exchange. After all, he’s thought about this for five days, he should know what he wants to ask, and Kyungsoo’s unrelenting honesty helps a lot. 

“How about _ certain _ things?” Jongin coughs out, ears burning at the tips. “Do you expect that from me?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to having a physical relationship with you, but of course, that’s only if you want that as well, and you tell me properly.” Kyungsoo finishes his drink with the final mouthful before he’s setting it on the dark wood of the coffee table between them. He takes a deep breath before falling back onto the chair and clasping his hands on top of his crossed legs. 

“If you don’t want it, then we’ll stick to what we used to do, no touching of that sort. I’m fine with that.”

The wine is sweet on his tongue as Jongin mulls Kyungsoo’s words over and over, caught in another stare-down with the older man. Kyungsoo is as calm and composed as ever, his voice and words measured when he answers every one of Jongin’s answers as clear as he can.

Jongin straightens up on his seat, not letting anything give him away. “What can I expect from you then?”

Kyungsoo cocks his head to the side when he smiles at Jongin, looking very much the man of wealth and power he had presented himself as. “Gifts, whenever I feel like getting you something. An allowance of whatever amount you desire, whenever you desire it. You’d also be free to ask anything else, and I’ll provide it, so long as it’s within reason.” 

“Oh,” Jongin mumbles out, raising the half-finished wine glass to his mouth and taking a big gulp. “Nothing is set in stone, Jongin. You’re free to change your mind at any time you want it to end, and if you change your mind about our arrangement, that’s alright too.”

The silence that blankets them is palpable, and Jongin desperately wants to know if he’s the first to be propositioned like this, so he asks exactly that. “Am I the first you’ve offered to support, and will this be exclusive?”

“Yes, it’s a reasonable investment. You are extremely passionate about what you do, so I don’t mind my money going to your betterment. And yes, it will be. That’s one thing I also will expect from you, I’m afraid,” Kyungsoo trails off. “I’m not one for sharing.”

“What if you get bored of me, what’s to say you won’t find someone else more willing to provide what I might refuse to give you?”

“My attraction isn’t that fickle, Jongin. Nobody has ever caught my eye as you have.” The heated finality of Kyungsoo’s tone makes Jongin’s mouth grow dry, nodding in place of responding to him verbally, glowing under the subtle compliment. “Is there anything I missed?”

“No, I think I’ve got it,” Jongin states, plain and smile. “I agree to the terms.” Kyungsoo’s smile doesn’t widen, nor does he glow in vindication, but he just gives Jongin a look that bleeds with how pleased he is over his choice. Jongin thinks—knows—that the feeling is mutual. “They’re effective now, yes?”

Kyungsoo hums his confirmation, and the alcohol in his system makes him a touch brazen. “I can get whatever I want?” He asks in a soft, contemplating tone, lowering his eyes to make him seem coy. “Whatever you ask.” Kyungsoo reiterates, uncrossing his legs when Jongin stands up to walk towards him.

The look of shock that crosses Kyungsoo’s face and breaks his immaculate composure sends a thrill of delight up Jongin’s spine when he digs his knees into the cushion on either side of the older male’s legs and sits primly on his lap. Kyungsoo does recover quickly, though, staring up at Jongin. “Is this a test?”

Jongin merely cocks his head to the side, a mirror image of the older man from a few minutes ago. He reaches up to place his hands on Kyungsoo’s nape, scooting closer to him. His fingers twitch on the armrests as he stands true to his word—nothing happens without Jongin’s explicit consent. “Maybe.” 

“You know I won’t do anything unless you ask me for it.” Kyungsoo murmurs when Jongin leans in closer to him, crowding further into his space that the mint of his perfume is prevalent in the air between them. “I know.” Jongin reaches behind him to grab at Kyungsoo’s wrist, splaying his fingers on the muscles of his thigh. “Maybe I want this.”

“Maybe.” Kyungsoo counters flatly as Jongin makes sure to maintain eye contact with him when he drags Kyungsoo’s hands up his waist to rest on his chest. “You are going to be the death of me, baby.” The older groans out when he feels the barbell underneath his fingers through the thin silk of Jongin’s shirt. “It’s okay, you can touch.” Jongin murmurs, subtly arching his back towards the hand on his chest.

“Didn’t you tell me six months ago that you prefer to be in control?” Jongin asks, rubbing his fingers at Kyungsoo’s nape and the short strands of his hair. He straightens his back to tower over Kyungsoo, leaning much, much closer to him that he can feel his breath fanning on his chest. 

“Well, this is me handing you the reigns.” He purrs, meeting the look of want swimming in Kyungsoo’s eyes with his own. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” Kyungsoo pulls himself back. Jongin, however, isn’t having any of it. “I’ve been waiting for you to make a move on me for months. You wouldn’t have kissed me if I hadn’t asked. You were great for being a gentleman, Kyungsoo, but I want something else now.”

“You’re immediately enjoying all your liberties, I see.” Jongin leans in to steal a kiss from Kyungsoo, savouring the sharpness of the scotch on his tongue and moaning at the hand gripping his thigh firmly. “Are you going to make me beg for it,” Jongin asks, cupping Kyungsoo’s jaw to whisper in his ear. “_ Daddy? _”

Kyungsoo stares up at Jongin with a furrow between his thick eyebrows and his face unreadable that Jongin absolutely thinks he’s ruined this, with how fast he has pushed things around. “Get up,” Kyungsoo says gruffly, Jongin deflates a bit when he climbs off of Kyungsoo’s lap before he hears his next words. “Bedroom, now.”

If Jongin thought the kiss they shared in one of Kyungsoo’s guest bedrooms was the best kiss of his life—he was sorely mistaken. The moment the door of Kyungsoo’s bedroom clicked shut, Kyungsoo presses him against the door and kisses him like a man starved for air, stealing air from his lungs, with hands roaming over his sides and his hips, and down to squeeze at his ass. 

Kyungsoo’s mouth is hot on Jongin, and the way his teeth nip at Jongin’s bottom lip to snake his tongue into his mouth is enough to make the younger weak in the knees, wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo’s neck as to not sink into the carpet. “Is this okay?” Kyungsoo pulls away to ask—ever the gentleman—he keeps their faces close, Jongin nodding wildly while he catches his breath, lungs heaving in his chest as if he ran a marathon. “More than okay.”

The quick, curling, palpable arousal was present in the room, so thick Jongin can taste it in the air, settling into the pit of his belly when Kyungsoo picks him up by his thighs and deposits him onto the bed. It's a feat that Jongin musters the coordination to make a move to unbutton his shirt while Kyungsoo’s lips descend on his again, licking into his mouth and sucking so hard on his tongue that he lets out a high-pitched keen from deep in his throat. 

Kyungsoo quickly settles between his thighs, aiding him in popping off the buttons and flinging his shirt to the floor, moving down to unbutton his jeans and tug them off Jongin’s mile-long legs. 

The sound of appreciation he makes when he finally sees the expanse of soft, sun-kissed skin and the sensuous line of Jongin’s muscles transcends every heated thought Jongin’s ever had about Kyungsoo, leaning into his touch when he drags his fingers from the fit muscles of his thigh from years of dancing, tracing a finger between the line of Jongin’s abs to squeeze the dip of his waist. 

He lets out a sharp gasp when Kyungsoo rubs at one of his pierced nipples, the calloused skin of his thumb running along where it disappeared into Jongin’s skin repeatedly. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you, baby?” Kyungsoo’s voice is scratchy with want, enthralled by the soft noises Jongin tries to conceal between bitten and kiss-swollen lips. 

“I try.” Jongin breathes out, arching into Kyungsoo’s touch when he twists the barbell gently between his fingers, writhing under the testing flicks to the steel piercing. Jongin doesn’t understand how he’s still able to speak proper sentences when he frantically pulling at Kyungsoo’s face to kiss him wetly, clenching his eyes and breathing softly against his mouth when he feels both of piercings being played with, juxtaposing between soft and firm caresses.

“I cleaned up really well before I got here.” He confesses, looking at Kyungsoo through the haze of desperation in his eyes, watching as Kyungsoo’s throat bobbing when he swallowed. “Fuck,” Jongin hears Kyungsoo groan against his neck, chasing after the teasing nips to his skin. “You are going to lead me to an early grave, Jongin.”

Jongin lifts his hips off the bed to help Kyungsoo tug his underwear off, hissing at the small bit of friction to his cock. “You know, I forgot to buy you something from my trip,” Kyungsoo says against his skin as he kisses down his chest and quickly laving at a nipple. “but let me make it up to you, for being so good to me.” He pushes Jongin’s thighs to his chest, marvelling at the younger’s flexibility before ducking his head and licking between his legs, Jongin’s surprised moan bouncing off the walls. 

“O-oh _ fuck— _Kyungsoo!” Jongin shouts, lifting his hips to chase after the older’s tongue. To say he’s incredibly turned on right now is an understatement—his cock is leaking an exorbitant amount of precome on his belly, shaking with the need to be touched, reaching out to tangle his hands into the strands of Kyungsoo’s hair in an attempt to grind himself down when the older moans, the vibrations travelling up his spine. 

“You are beautiful, baby doll.” Kyungsoo moans out, deep and guttural, against the skin of his inner thigh before sucking it hard enough to bruise. Jongin can’t decide which one he likes more tumbling out of Kyungsoo’s lips when he’s drunk off of Jongin’s reactions. 

“Please,” Jongin begs, out of his mind and delirious with want, pushing his hips up to Kyungsoo’s face. “Use your words, baby. We talked about this.” Comes the warning, but Kyungsoo does humour him a tug on his cock that makes his thighs shake. 

“Eat me out, fuck me, anything, please.” Jongin whines out, his irises blown out under the dim light of the bedroom, all rosy sun-kissed skin and tightly coiled muscles when he begs before Kyungsoo. He shivers under the scrutiny of Kyungsoo’s heated gaze and the firm grip keeping his thighs open, leaving him exposed for Kyungsoo’s viewing pleasure. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Kyungsoo’s face is dark, the ice-cold composure back in place when he lowers himself on the bed again, before a kiss—a promise is pressed to the crook of Jongin’s knee. “You’ve been so good, baby doll, anything for you.” 

Jongin vaguely remembers coming twice that night—babbling nonsense from the curling licks into his walls and the thick fingers stretching him out, slick as they twist and prod firmly into the spot that makes him lose all the air in his lungs, any sort proper thought leaving his head over the overtly, wet and borderline obscene sounds of Kyungsoo’s mouth and tongue on his hole, whimpering butchered versions of Kyungsoo’s name and a mantra of _ pleasepleasepleasefuckthereSooplease _pouring from his lips that Kyungsoo answers with a groan of his own. 

Jongin feels himself scream when the tightly wound cord in his belly snaps without control and the grip he has on Kyungsoo’s hair becomes almost overbearingly painful as he rides his release. He meets Kyungsoo’s eyes from the valley of his splayed legs as he keeps licking, twisting his fingers against his sweet spot until Jongin all but shoves him weakly in overstimulation. 

The second one is when Kyungsoo finally strips naked and rolling protection and applying lube over himself despite Jongin’s begging to come inside, he’s apologetic, kissing Jongin on the lobe of his ear to say _ after we get tested, baby, I promise. I’ll fuck you until you’re dripping with me. _Kyungsoo murmurs dragging his teeth sharply near a helix piercing, Jongin forgetting how to breathe when Kyungsoo finally, finally pushes into him, positively whimpering when he feels Kyungsoo fill him up perfectly.

He’s the perfect mix of rough and gentle that can make Jongin lose his mind in mere seconds until he’s left shaking and speaking in tongues into the mattress, too fucked out to control his noises and the tears running down into his sweat matted hair when Kyungsoo thrusts and grinds into the perfect spot, mouth hot and wet and all too mind shatteringly perfect around the pebbled nubs on his chest, sucking and biting down on the swollen buds just enough that slight pinpricks of pain only serves to make him harder and leak across the taut skin of his belly, arching up into the perfect tongue with a desperate plea on his own.

Jongin vaguely hears Kyungsoo’s pleased grunts in his ear over his loud, gasping moans and keens, shivering under all the gritted filth and praise being said to him as he watches Kyungsoo fucks him harder into the mattress, gripping hard onto the headboard. _ You’re just perfect around me, baby doll, come for me. Come for daddy. _

Jongin feels his back arch again, a surprised drawn-out moan coming from his chest when his jaw drops and when he feels himself come untouched, Kyungsoo cursing at his involuntary clenching, driving his hips hard enough to push Jongin a few inches up on the bed before he drops his head to groan, his voice tapering off with a deeply pleased moan as he pants on the sweaty skin of the younger’s chest. 

The sudden nip to his pierced nipple and feeling of Kyungsoo’s sucking it into his mouth makes Jongin grit his teeth from the oversensitivity, pushing at Kyungsoo’s shoulder and shaking his head into the pillow. _ Too much, please. _

Kyungsoo leans up to kiss him again, soft and chaste and all too reminiscent of their first kiss in the other room, all affection without the heat to distract him from the older man pulling out and his warmth parting from him. _ You’ve been so good for me, Jongin, let me take care of you. _

Aftercare with Kyungsoo is a delight—the oversensitivity makes him feel like the washcloth gently dragging against his skin is much too cold, much too rough, but the endless amount of praise spilling from Kyungsoo’s lips is enough to warm him up until Kyungsoo slips into the bed beside him the covers are being drawn over his naked body.

Needless to say, Jongin passes out against the pillows, sinking into the thick, warm sheets, feeling too content with the bone-deep satisfaction and the body lying behind him. 

When Kyungsoo’s arm snakes around his waist to pull him close, Jongin feels like he’s made a great choice. 

—

Jongin feels like a year and a half had gone by rather quickly after he had gone back home to his apartment, his now blond hair still dripping at the ends when he falls back onto the couch, shooting a quick text to the older man before Baekhyun opens his bedroom door.

_ hiya, just got back home _

_ I realise I haven’t said thanks for coming to watch my showcase last night, _

_ but thank you. I mean it. _

“Look who the cat dragged in,” Baekhyun grins, leaning down to hug him. “You look like you had fun. Reminds me of the time you came home a year and a half ago.” His smile his sharp and all-knowing, and Jongin jokingly raises his hand to slap him on the cheek. “How was your reunion?”

“Fun. Got railed through the weekend.” Jongin says almost nonchalantly while Baekhyun laughs behind him. “As expected,” Baekhyun says before he’s squeezing Jongin tight in his arms. “I can’t believe you’re graduating in the fall, Ninibear! I had nothing to do with, but I’m proud of you.” He kisses Jongin on the cheek, the loud pucker of his lips making Jongin giggle loud.

“Thanks, Hyung. Ready for your last year of hell?”

“You forget I still have another year of suffering for the Bar review and exam. After this is all over with, I just want to pass out on the beach with a fruity drink in my hand.” Baekhyun pops a bottle of beer open from their fridge, the loud sound catching the younger by surprise. “But now, we gotta settle for Hite. Where are you going for a graduation trip?” 

“I dunno yet.”

“Kyungsoo hasn’t given you a gift for a job well done, aside from you know, railing you through the weekend.” Baekhyun remarks after he takes a swig of his beer, leaning a hip on the counter. “Gotta hand it to him though, three months of no sex, how was that for you?”

“I didn’t even think about my dick the entire time,” Jongin answers, preoccupied with a game on his phone. “I was just too focused on making sure that my leg was properly straight, or you know, forgetting the choreography from over practising.”

“If I were you, I would’ve made a flimsy excuse of ‘_ practising flexibility _’ just so I can get laid, but then again, I don’t have the discipline to go to a dance academy, so I took law instead,” Baekhyun states, shrugging as he snacks on whatever was in their cupboards at the time. “Good way to nurture any budding addictions—Christ, I don’t think coffee works on me anymore, but wait, really? No gift?”

“Not really? I haven’t asked for anything, he watched, that’s enough for me, ” Jongin’s phone rings with a notification from Kyungsoo, swiping at it to open. “I mean he was also away for the Dubai project. He had more important things to deal with.”

_ You’re very much welcome, Jongin. _

_ I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. _

_ By the way, this is weird, but, _

_ send me a picture of your ears with all the studs in. _

_ Is there a kink I should be made aware of…? _

_ I’m a simple man, Jongin. _

_ You know what I like. _

_ I do, but people change. _

_ Just trust me _

_ Fine fine _

_ Gimme a few minutes _

“You two are into some weird shit.” Jongin doesn’t notice Baekhyun leaning over his shoulder again, jumping at the sound of his voice in his ear. “I really didn’t think he would be into the piercings. You know, all of them.” Jongin admits while Baekhyun walks around and slumps into the cushions beside him, swinging his legs to rest on Jongin’s.

“He probably thinks it’s hot.”

“He does.”

“Of course, he does. Remind me why you decided to get them again, now don’t give me that face,” The older man clicks his tongue at the look of disappointed look that washes over Jongin’s face. “I forget the smallest things to make space for the things I need to know unless I want to end up crying after a lecture.”

“Admittedly, it was a phase in my Literature days. I wanted to impress this girl who liked bad boys, wanted to make myself look cooler.” 

“You are as bad as a puppy, Jongin.”

“Exactly. My scalp suffered a lot too.” Jongin winces at the memory of getting turned down by the object of his affection at eighteen. “But I liked how I looked with the piercings, so I continued to get more even if I stopped trying to look cool.” He explains, thumbing at the double helix, conch and triple lobe piercings on his right ear while Baekhyun stares at the single helix and lobe stud on his left. 

“You do look better when you know, you don’t force things. I remember your sophomore year, you looked especially soft with all the hoodies, Ninibear. I like this blond on you too,” Baekhyun comments as he twirls a piece between his fingers. “You’ve reached optimum softness.” Jongin chuckles at the compliment, throwing his head back.

“What about the nipple barbells?” Baekhyun asks, finishing his beer in one last gulp. “I remember you getting them—I was with you to hold your hand through it, but I do remember that we were both drunk at the time.”

“Ah,” Jongin starts. “We celebrated your graduation, and my request for transfer getting approved. I got an earful from my mum that morning, and I just decided to make more bad decisions. Ended up keeping them, even if they hurt like a bitch for a good year.”

“I imagine.” Baekhyun hisses, but his eyes suddenly fall to Jongin’s t-shirt clad chest. “But you can’t deny they add a lot to foreplay.” 

Jongin’s face heats up, arms immediately crossing around his chest. “Why do I feel objectified?”

“Jongin, if we slept together, we’d just bump purses all night.”

“I thought you switched!”

“I do, but you’re too,” Baekhyun gestures vaguely to Jongin. “Jongin. I don’t know. We aren’t compatible.”

“Why did you have to make it weird?”

“Sexual liberation isn’t weird, Jongin. I thought being with Kyungsoo widened your horizons.” 

“It did!” Jongin yells out defensively. 

“Why are you acting like a virgin then?”

“Am not!” Jongin whines, ever the adult and much to Baekhyun’s amusement, “Now be a good friend and take a picture of my ears.” Jongin says, before handing his phone to Baekhyun, grinning when Baekhyun rolls his eyes but takes the pictures nonetheless. “Fine, but if this is something sexual, I’m kink-shaming you.”

—

The whole fiasco over Jongin’s piercings comes to an end after another two months later when Jongin finds himself in Kyungsoo’s bathroom, soaking in an absurdly sized tub with lavender-scented steam wafting into the air. Kyungsoo is standing by the sink in a robe with shaving cream slathered over his upper lip and jaw, going over the skin with a razor.

It’s jarringly domestic, Jongin admits, resting his ankles on the rim of the tub, he feels like a trophy wife.

“Where are we heading later?” Jongin asks, sinking into the tub until the water is lapping at his jaw. “The InterContinental, in Gangnam,” Kyungsoo explains, washing his face free of the shaving cream and going over the meticulous skincare regimen that makes him look much younger than his years. 

“To celebrate the completion of the project. We already had a separate celebration in Dubai, but Chanyeol _ insisted _ that we have one here as well, so I’m assuming I’ll be seeing Baekhyun there later. How is he, by the way?”

“Last two years of suffering he says,” Jongin replies to him. “He’s incredibly smart. Hyung can handle himself, he has handled himself.” Kyungsoo hums out a reply as he finishes with his routine, applying pomade to his hair. “I remembered something. Chanyeol once told me that Baekhyun got drunk and threatened to egg my office, do you know anything about that?”

Jongin remembers the conversation from a year ago very clearly, but he chooses to cock his head in confusion, a guileless smile directed at Kyungsoo. “Not the slightest idea.” Kyungsoo returns his smile before rolling his eyes. “I’ll leave you to get ready, I also have a surprise laid out on the bed for you.” He says, walking towards Jongin with his glasses in his hand to protect them from the steam, before leaning in to kiss Jongin on the lips briefly. 

“Is that a euphemism and I’ll just find you naked in bed?” Jongin asks, grinning at Kyungsoo and briefly staring at a thin golden ring inlaid with rubies and diamonds dangling from a delicate chain off his neck. Weird. Kyungsoo rarely wore jewellery. “I’ll think about it for tonight. Finish up, we have to get there by eight.”

Jongin relents, washing himself up and going through the nines with his now normal routine, wrestling with the fancy hair dryer he never got the hang of to style his hair and returning into the bedroom where he sees a dust bag with the insignia of a French brand imprinted on it, and a set of black, unassuming, jewellery boxes beside it, his boots set by the floor-length mirror.

From his experience, most unlabelled boxes meant bespoke items when it came to Kyungsoo. His suspicions came true when he pried it open, gasping at the sheer variety of earrings pinned down onto the foam; ruby-encrusted ear-hugging hoops, thin wire-like hoops and number of simple golden studs. 

Jongin fights the blush on his face when he sees the golden rings allotted for some other piercings Kyungsoo had in mind laid out on the black velvet.

He also spots a separate box, smaller than the rest and opens it, only to gape at its contents. It’s a complete match to the one Kyungsoo was wearing on a chain back in the bathroom, the brilliant gems bright and shockingly red under the light. It makes him choke with emotion a little bit and tries to shake them off as fast as they came, dressing quickly and choosing his earrings for the night.

The suit and shoes are a perfect fit—as expected, Kyungsoo always delivers even with the smallest details. 

When he spritzes himself with perfume, he tosses one last look on the small jewellery box on the bed and decides last minute before he’s turning off the lights and walking down the stairs with his suit jacket hanging on the crook of his arm, the thick heels of his boots clicking against the hardwood floors. 

Kyungsoo’s making some last-minute calls in the living room, and his handsome face splits into a smile when he sees Jongin by the stairs, looking absolutely phenomenal. “Alright, we’re just about to leave,” He says to whomever he’s talking to before ending the call. 

“You look gorgeous.” Kyungsoo says, almost breathless when Jongin comes closer to him. He can’t seem to resist, holding Jongin by the waist and leaning in to kiss him on the cheek swiftly. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I hope you don’t mind that they’re not exactly matching,” Jongin refers to the new jewellery lining his ears, the gold going perfectly with his lighter hair and sun-kissed skin. “Took some creative freedom.”

“Not at all, it is a gift for a job well done.” Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker towards the ring on Jongin’s right finger when he brings his hand up, and the younger male sees his eyes grow fond at the sight of it. They both refuse to acknowledge the Kyungsoo’s unsaid offer and Jongin’s acceptance of it by wearing the matching ring, but they have time. 

They’ll acknowledge it some other time, or until Kyungsoo gets bored at the event and drinks enough to loosen his tongue, but Jongin doesn’t mind waiting.

Kyungsoo also looks happier—perhaps it’s from the success of the company or some sort of personal victory that he doesn’t tell Jongin, but no matter, it’s a good look on Kyungsoo, Jongin thinks, but he may just be a touch biased. 

Jongin spares one last look to the matching ring hanging off a chain around Kyungsoo’s neck when they slip their suit jackets on, the jewels much more brilliant against the satin of Kyungsoo’s necktie. Kyungsoo offers him his arm, smiling up at him. “Shall we?” 

“Of course, can’t keep Uncle waiting, can we?” Jongin takes the arm, walking towards the door and getting into the sleek Mercedes, hiding his smile when Kyungsoo reaches out to intertwine their fingers together in the darkness of the car.

—

_ Epilogue: _

Baekhyun does end up being at the event, and he’s impeccably dressed and has already broken a handful of conventional formal dress regulations with how low his silk shirt is left unbuttoned underneath his suit jacket, instead covered by a number of delicate chains layered around his chest, but he looks great—fresh-faced and a touch of kohl around his eyes.

“You look expensive, Ninibear.” He whistles appreciatively and gasping when he notices the stainless-steel piercings switched out for the more elegant and undoubtedly, more expensive, golden earrings in his ears. “Oh my god,” Baekhyun breathes out in sheer shock when he notices the ring on Jongin’s hand, “Don’t tell me the graduation gift is sharing his net worth.”

“Oh god no,” Jongin immediately shakes his head, “The jewellery is the gift.” 

When Kyungsoo and Chanyeol approach them, with the taller man practically wrapped around Kyungsoo like a barnacle to finally make small talk with them with the niceties done and over with, Baekhyun pulls him close and abruptly hisses in his ear. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I’m telling you, Hyung, I don’t know anything,” Jongin confesses, much to Baekhyun’s unbelieving expression when he crosses his arms. “I just got the gift like two hours ago when I got out of the bathroom,” Jongin whispers.

“What’s all the fuss about,” Kyungsoo asks, placing a hand around Jongin’s waist both to ground himself after the exhausting amount of talking to ensure good relations with investors, and to veer away any of those attempting to orchestrate a match with him and their son or daughter. 

After all, nothing says _ I’m accounted for _ like a recurring, mysterious, show-stopping eye candy of a date like Jongin.

When Baekhyun, with his ever-sharp eyes, noticing the similar ring hanging off Kyungsoo’s neck, he merely tugs at Chanyeol’s arm so that the taller man can lean down to hear what Baekhyun has to say. Chanyeol straightens up with a smirk on his face that makes even Kyungsoo squirm, eyeing the necklace on his chest. “Nothing. Just admiring the matching rings.”

Jongin somehow gets brave, looking down at Kyungsoo with a teasing lilt to his smirk before reaching back to hold Kyungsoo’s shoulders when he replies to the taller man. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow in confusion. “Ah, I’m afraid that’s something for Kyungsoo’s eyes only, Mr. Park, he doesn’t like to share.” 

Kyungsoo’s eyes slowly go wide at the realisation, falling immediately to the fabric over Jongin’s chest and knowing what laid beneath the brand-new Saint Laurent suit, and Baekhyun’s sputtering is loud when he proceeds to choke on his mouthful of champagne when it dawns on him. 

Chanyeol only furrows his brows, unable to follow the eminent innuendo. “I...I don’t follow?”

“It’s nothing.” Kyungsoo murmurs before he schools his features back into that of blank politeness when Chanyeol rubs at Baekhyun’s back to soothe him after a round of coughing. “Nothing important.” Kyungsoo’s grip on Jongin’s waist tightens and Jongin can only bite down a whimper once Kyungsoo looks up at him with that certain glint in his eyes, guaranteeing that the ride back to Hannam-dong would be a short, eventful one. 

  
That is, if Kyungsoo is able to practice some semblance of self control, or Jongin is pretty sure he’s going to ruin his new suit on the polished floors of the hotel bathroom.


	2. Just Another One of Those Graceless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyungsoo is many things, but he isn’t a man to back down from a promise.
> 
> Takes place immediately after the original work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, I haven’t gotten it out of my system.
> 
> Warnings(?): Referenced sexual explorations and negotiations, badly written blowjob and other jobs of the sexual sort, mild dirty talk, praise kink, sex toys.

It’s amazing how Kyungsoo’s ice cold, almost immaculate composure just _ cracks _once Jongin is unravelled before him, naked and splayed open for his pleasure. Then again, he has never been strong to tears nor the proper amount of begging, especially Jongin’s.

Kyungsoo is always perfect in bed—knows exactly what to do, where to crook his fingers, where to keep his mouth, knows exactly what sort of filth Jongin wants to hear deep, deep down to reduce him into a whining, frantic mess. He’s a man of very specific tastes that got very lucky to find it all in Jongin, kinks and all. 

Jongin can sense the palpable want in the small space of the car on the way home—Kyungsoo manages to hold off until he’s finished his duties as a proper host, maintaining that carefully crafted, polite smile glued onto his face until it was acceptable to leave, wrapping his fingers around Jongin’s hand with a gentle yet insistent touch as he tugs him away from a conversation with his friend, Baekhyun. 

He feels the desire swimming under Kyungsoo’s skin when he reaches over to hold Jongin’s thigh firmly with this fingers easily pressing on the inseam of Jongin’s slacks and his thumb digging into the top of his thigh. Other than that, he makes quiet conversation with his long time driver until they arrive in front of Kyungsoo’s villa, face schooled cooly as if his fingers weren’t a less than a few inches away from Jongin’s budding arousal before he pulls away and leads Jongin into the door without any rush, all too willing to drag it on, until Jongin’s the one begging for anything and everything.

Jongin realised how much Kyungsoo enjoys and _ relishes _ in delayed gratification when the older man had fingered him to tears bent over against the cool marble counter of the sink in his private bathroom, writhing and thrusting back on the two fingers curling against his prostate almost a year ago. 

—

Eyes clenched shut and jaw lose with moaned obscenities, arching back into Kyungsoo’s shoulder to chase after the soft kisses and gentle nips to his neck and shoulders that juxtaposed the rough, firm strokes to his clenching hole. He almost misses Kyungsoo murmuring something else into the lobe of his ear, shivering at the praises to his _ tight hole, clenching so hard around my fingers, such a good, desperate baby doll for me. _

_ “ _Jongin, baby, colour?” Kyungsoo’s fingers slows inside of him, turning into much gentler thrusts that allows Jongin to gather what was left of his senses. He swallows around the dryness of his mouth and throat, breathing deeply before answering. “Green. Still green, Soo.” Kyungsoo acknowledges his answer with a gentle kiss pressed onto this temple, merely humming a reply in that gravelly voice.

They had established a system early on in their arrangement, something that allowed Kyungsoo to thoroughly let go of himself and for Jongin to allow it as they explored new things to strengthen their sexual compatibility. 

So far, it had been all glowing successes, all ending up with Jongin boneless and pleasantly sated on whatever surface Kyungsoo had decided to fuck on. 

Though Jongin had a leeway, a word he could use when he’s had too much but at the same time, too little, one he could utter and Kyungsoo would drop everything and do anything he ever asked for. He only let go of the word ‘_ Daddy’ _when he was truly, wantonly desperate, at his wit’s need and overcome with the need for release with or without Kyungsoo’s help. He was fine—a little boneless from the teasing that seemed to stretch on for hours, but fine, nonetheless. “Now, I didn’t appreciate that little stunt you pulled off today.” Kyungsoo states, maintaining the softer pace as he pushes another finger into Jongin and making him grip the cold marble hard as he gasps out a cuss loud and sharp in the bathroom. “Fuck.”

“Is that a proper response to me, baby?” The three fingers stretching Jongin out resumed the rough pace, digging into his prostate firm enough to make his eyes water and his voice to break. “I...I’m sorry, Kyungsoo.” Jongin breathes, crying out at the firm grip Kyungsoo had around the base of his leaking cock. Kyungsoo clicks his tongue in faux disappointment, and Jongin vaguely registers his head shaking as the lips on his neck ceased their course. “You didn’t sound that apologetic when you sent me that video.” Kyungsoo speaks low into his ear, tone filled with thinly concealed impatience. 

“Tell me, what were you planning when you sent me that video of you stretching yourself open, moaning for me like that?” He grits out, pressing his hard arousal against the back of Jongin’s thigh, still in his work clothes. “Did you want me to tell you how I need to excuse myself from a meeting, just so I can relieve myself? Did you want me to tell you that, baby doll? How I touched my cock hoping it was your mouth getting it nice and wet?” Jongin let out a full body shiver at Kyungsoo’s words, unable to speak and all too aroused with the image of Kyungsoo touching himself while watching him fall apart. 

The video he sent was something Jongin had thought of on a whim—though it was truly powered by this frustration over a long day of classes where nothing just seemed to go his way at all. He had marched home with a frown on his face, locking himself in his room with an angry line in his shoulders that couldn’t quite dissipate. Kyungsoo had been apologetic over his cancellation of a date two nights before over the pile of paperwork he had to attend to, and Jongin was frustrated. 

Extremely frustrated.

When his phone rings with a text from Kyungsoo asking how his day was, he gets an idea. He sets his phone against the dresser on top a couple of books, tumbles into his bed, ripping the gym leggings off his legs and staying in the rumpled flannel shirt he had changed into after practice. His face burns with the thought of actually going through with the idea, but it doesn’t take away the fact that it was a touch arousing to him. 

He knows Kyungsoo won’t open it all too carelessly, or so he hopes, when he finally sinks into the sheets and loses himself thinking of the older man, clamping down on his own fingers as he rides the high of his orgasm. His thighs are spread impossibly wide towards the camera, the delicate skin of his inner thighs painted with fading love bites, choking on Kyungsoo’s name when he feels hypersensitive from the rough flannel rubbing against his nipples. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t respond to the uncaptioned video until a few hours later, curt and straight to the point that makes Jongin clamber to wash and dress himself up with anything he can find, which was a plain tee and an old pair of sleep shorts. _ “The driver will be arriving in thirty minutes. Let Baekhyun know you won’t be coming home tonight.” _

“I’m sorry.” Jongin babbles out as he’s whisked back into the present, lurching in Kyungsoo’s arms as the older man thumbs at the head of his cock, spreading the wetness around. “Are you really? You seemed all too content with coming around your fingers, why can’t you with mine in your little hole? I think it’s more than enough.” Kyungsoo asks, tone cruel as Jongin trembles at the fourth finger stretching him out. Jongin shakes his head vehemently, the thin moans from his throat doing little to drown out the slick slap of skin against skin, the obscene squelch of lube being drilled into him. “No, no. Not enough. Need your cock.” He moans out breathily, keening at the kiss Kyungsoo allows him, though he’s very close, he can feel the string in his stomach growing more and more taut, can feel the heat thrumming through his veins and begging to just burst out. 

“I’m not sure you deserve it tonight. You know I don’t enjoy the few times I punish you baby doll,” Jongin feels his stomach drop at the words, whining out as he feels Kyungsoo’s fingers retreat from his walls. “But I think it’s time you learn a lesson.” He mutters deep and low into Jongin’s nape as he rolls down a cock ring down the younger’s hard and leaking cock, much to the loud yell of protest that ripped itself from his chest. Jongin hears himself sob, feeling the tears streaming down his face as Kyungsoo squeezes at his waist. “Colour?”

“Green.” Jongin whispers after he lets himself shake against the sink, shivering at the coolness of the marble and Kyungsoo’s warmth behind him. “Green.” He repeats himself in a louder voice, before it tapers out into another drawn out moan when he feels something being eased into his slicked hole gently, the sheer girth of the silicone toy making him shake and whimper in Kyungsoo’s ear when it finally settles in, the handle pressing up firmly against his rim. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t further help his case when he reaches up to rub at Jongin’s hardened nipples, twisting and flicking the steel piercings between his fingers and enjoying the way Jongin quakes in his arms, moaning incessantly into the cold air of the bathroom as clenches down on the toy. “K-Kyungsoo,_ oh my god, fuck _ , please. I’m, _ oh god, _sorry.” He whimpers against the sensitivity, unable to curl away from the generous touches to his chest. 

“I have to go finish some work now, baby, since I did have to leave the office a little earlier.” Kyungsoo kisses him on the cheek just to be cruel, wiping down the excess lube off his skin with a washcloth before he’s pulling Jongin’s shorts over his hips and straightening the thin t-shirt down from where it was bunched under Jongin’s armpits again before pulling away from the younger man entirely. “Come up to the office when you’re settled.” He says primly, before walking out of the bathroom leaving Jongin to console with himself with the plug pressing against his prostate when he straightens himself. 

When Jongin manages to get himself up the final flight of stairs with some difficulty, Kyungsoo looks up at him from the rim of his glasses, his lips pressed thinly as his hands cease over the tablet. “Take a seat, Jongin.” He says, pointing to the couch tucked at the farthest wall away from him as he resumes his work, eyes glued to the screen of his desktop. “This shouldn’t be too long.” Kyungsoo explains, staring at Jongin thoughtfully when he sits gingerly at the couch, careful not to jostle the plug inside him.

He keeps his hands down on his knees as he waits, willing the arousal waves in his veins to pull back, digging his fingernails into the skin of his knees in a weak attempt to keep his mind off the suddenly scratchy fabric of his threadbare t-shirt, wanting nothing more than to get out of his cotton shorts. 

It is a punishment, after all. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t like to hurt him in conventional ways often—doesn’t like to see Jongin hurting when he leaves his house. Those kinds of things they space out far into Jongin’s long university breaks, so that Kyungsoo can demand things from Jongin’s body when dancing ceases to, even for as little as a week so that Jongin’s body is able to recuperate and function without his muscles and bones screaming for rest.

He likes to make Jongin ache, though. Kyungsoo after all, was a simple man with simple needs. He liked to feel someone submit to him, to have someone under his control, and Jongin is willing enough to give him that semblance of control.

The piercing ring of Kyungsoo’s telephone on his desk does snap Jongin out of his thoughts temporarily, listening to the deep drawl of Kyungsoo’s voice as he talks to presumably a client or an employee over the phone, catching the older man’s sudden switch to English as he laughs, shaking his head to mutter a few choice words that Jongin does understand when Kyungsoo looks directly at him when he utters them into the mouthpiece. “Sorry, Kris. Can’t go out tonight, I’m a little preoccupied.”

He turns in his office chair, turning away from the desk as he fidgets with something on his phone, and Jongin can only bite down on his lip when the plug starts to vibrate, the low thrum catching Jongin off guard as his thighs start to shake when the arousal comes crashing down at him like a tsunami. “Yes,” Kyungsoo answers, and Jongin grips the armrest of the couch like a lifeline when he sees Kyungsoo’s thumb sliding up and down over the glass of his phone, matching the undulating and erratic vibrations against his clenching walls. “It requires all of my attention right now, so no, I can’t leave it tonight.” 

Kyungsoo flicks his thumb up and Jongin gasps sharply when the vibrations intensify and doesn’t waver, grinding down against the cushions with his legs spread absurdly wide for any sort of relief. “I’ll make it up to you next week, that a good time?” Jongin’s lids flutter as his jaw drops down into a breathless whimper, arching back into the couch and his head digging into to the back. It’s a miracle that Jongin doesn’t come dry from that, honestly, when his thighs are locked and back arched impossibly so, breathing hard as he struggles to take mouthfuls of air. 

Kyungsoo merely raises a finger to his lips, a signal for him to keep quiet before he uncrosses his legs and spreads them, his arousal pressing onto the starched fabric of his grey slacks. “Alright, just text me when and where. Thanks.” He smiles, putting the receiver down, watching Jongin writhe, gasping as he tries to clamp down on the loud moans threatening to leave his lips. 

“Baby,” Kyungsoo calls out, and the vibrations dull down from an earth shattering pulse that makes Jongin’s muscles taut with need to a more dull hum against his sweet spot until it slows down to a stop.“Have I made it clear how important it is to wait?”

“Yes,” Jongin replies, nodding slowly as he lets his muscles relax a little. “I’m sorry, I promise I won’t do it again.” He speaks slowly, though any semblance of control he has shatters when Kyungsoo curls a single finger to beckon him to come closer. Jongin knees down in front of him for good measure, sinking into the plush wool of the rug under his knees and it makes Kyungsoo’s eyes glint with satisfaction, his fingers gentle when he cards through Jongin’s sweat matted hair. “Jongin, colour?” Kyungsoo asks again, tone soft as Jongin watches his hand linger around the clasp of his slacks. 

Jongin’s eyes whisk up to Kyungsoo’s, before he’s swallowing harshly to rid himself of the saliva pooling underneath his tongue, wanting nothing more than Kyungsoo’s cock in between his lips. He’s desperate—deciding to utter the words Kyungsoo needs to proceed with this entire play. “Green, Daddy, I’m okay.” Jongin whispers, leaning into short nails scraping against his scalp. He watches Kyungsoo’s demeanour relax as his shoulders drop a touch, savouring the deep grind of his voice when he speaks. “Good boy,” Kyungsoo states, leaning back onto his chair. “You know what to do, baby doll. Suck me off,” He says, and Jongin doesn’t hesitate, reaching up to open Kyungsoo’s slacks and tug him out of his underwear, whimpering at the sight. “You’ve earned it.”

—

Kyungsoo doesn’t waste any time crowding into Jongin’s space as the door clicks shut behind them, the sharp sound resonating in the otherwise quiet home. “You’re...riled up.” Jongin comments as he’s pressed against the coat closet of all places, the deep spice of Kyungsoo’s perfume making him a touch light headed. “I can’t help it, when you dangle things in front of me like that.” 

Jongin merely wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulders, raising a hand to mess with the careful coif of the older man’s hair. His eyes fall to the gold ring still dangling by a chain on Kyungsoo’s neck, rubies and diamonds bright under the light of the foyer. “It’s not my fault when you make it easy, subtlety is not your strong suit.” He grins, watching Kyungsoo shake his head with a smirk tinged with amusement. “Since when did you become this brazen?” Kyungsoo asks, his hands lingering on Jongin’s hips.

“When your childhood best friend and my roommate assumed that I’m going to be sharing your net worth as a graduation gift, because of this,” Jongin wriggles his hand, the matching golden ring shining in between his fingers. “They thought I was going to be the other Mr. Doh Kyungsoo. That’s usually the reaction a pair of matching eternity rings garners.”

“That’s absurd,” Kyungsoo speaks, “I would let you hyphenate.” Then the look in his eyes becomes almost playful, a thick eyebrow quirked up at Jongin. He grins, unrestrained, and Jongin realises how handsome Kyungsoo truly is all over again. “You seem different.” Kyungsoo says, pulling away from Jongin, though he does drag Jongin into the living room and sits down on the couch and crosses his legs.

Jongin chooses to stand up, leaning down against the backrest. “How so?” He asks, smiling down at Kyungsoo when he removes the suit jacket, setting it somewhere that the dry cleaning bill wouldn’t break the bank. 

Kyungsoo seems to ponder on his answer, giving Jongin a calculating once over. He cocks his head when he comes up with a plausible answer. “You seem taller, more confident.”

“I’ve always been taller than you, Kyungsoo.” Jongin jokes, though his eyes flicker down to Kyungsoo’s crossed legs. “I guess I have become more confident.”

Kyungsoo’s lips slide into a smirk as he notices Jongin’s gaze at his legs, choosing to uncross them and spread them apart more than necessary. “Then I guess I need to get stilts for my baby, or,” 

Jongin lets out a loud, disbelieving laugh. Kyungsoo is most entertainly crass when he’s had enough whisky to make him loose lipped that his dirty talk makes Jongin laugh more than get him heated. “Or?”

Kyungsoo leans back on the backrest and stretches one of his arms over the ledge, face dangerously cocky. “Or, you can get down on your knees. Your choice.” He utters, smirking up at the younger man. Jongin lets out an amused burst of air from his nose as he walks in front of Kyungsoo, loosening his tie and tossing it to the side. 

He unbuttons his dress shirt enough and kneels before Kyungsoo, humming appreciatively at the fingers running through his hair when he runs his hands up Kyungsoo’s ankles and up his thighs, lingering at the older man’s waist band. “You could’ve just asked me,” Jongin says calmly as if he wasn’t undoing Kyungsoo’s belt with sure, practiced motions. “I would’ve gladly gotten down on my knees in the bathroom for you, even in the car.”

“I’m not too keen on the possibility of long time investors seeing my dick out, or scarring my childhood driver to the point that he quits.” Kyungsoo explains, messing with the new piercings around Jongin’s ear. “Where would the fun in that be? You’re smart enough to know what I want.” Jongin manages to unzip his slacks and tug Kyungsoo’s half-hard cock out, making the older man hiss with the sudden touch.

“Is that a way to keep me on my toes?” Jongin asks, unbuttoning Kyungsoo’s dress shirt from the bottom and pushing it aside to take his eyes all over the pale expanse of Kyungsoo’s skin, straightening up to kiss a mole on his abs. Kyungsoo moans low in his throat, tugging slightly at Jongin’s hair to show his impatience. “Gotta keep you interested.” The older man says, smirking down at Jongin as he trails down lower. 

Jongin decides to push at his buttons a little more, choosing to lick upwards from the base of Kyungsoo’s cock to the tip, before wrapping his lips around it to suck all while he watches Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter shut, throwing his head back into the cushions as he groans. “Believe me,” Jongin speaks out, strangely breathless this early on when he wraps a hand around Kyungsoo, stroking him to full hardness and smiling as he arches his hips to chase after the sensation. “I’m more than interested.” 

The hand in his hair tugs again, a little more insistent as Kyungsoo looks at him through half lidded eyes, a warning tone to his voice when his hands migrates down to grip at Jongin’s jaw. “Then why are you dragging this out, baby doll?”

Jongin doesn’t answer, though the shiver that does go down his spine is palpable enough to make him act. He moans loud and hot as he lowers his mouth around Kyungsoo, sucking enthusiastically to rip another loud groan from the older man's chest. “_ Fuck _, baby,” Kyungsoo sighs, arching into Jongin’s mouth when he digs his tongue into a thick vein running along the underside of his cock. “You’re the best at this.”

He pulls away long enough to murmur something against the tip of Kyungsoo’s cock, licking the copious precome leaking from it with another moan. “Had a lot of practice, learned from the best, too.”

“Thinking about me sucking you off while sucking me, huh?” Kyungsoo taunts, making Jongin whine around his cock, lightheaded from the lack of air when he deepthroats the thick cock in front of him and the simmering want threatening to spill over at the filthy promise that Kyungsoo tells him, somehow still coherent with his cock in Jongin’s throat. “We’ll see, baby doll, maybe I’ll even eat you out after—_ fucking hell, Jongin— _ make you come again and again, maybe come inside you _ —shit, _when I fuck you after.”

Jongin can only moan thinly at the promise, closing his eyes and sucking in earnest as he bobs his head, making him curse sharply and curl his fingers tight into Jongin’s fringe. He doesn’t push though, which Jongin appreciates. “You’re so good, baby,” Kyungsoo breathes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Jongin relaxes and takes more of his cock until his nose is pressed up to the trimmed hair of Kyungsoo’s pelvis. 

“Such a perfect mouth, make me come, baby, I’m close.” Kyungsoo whispers as he meets eyes with Jongin, hands gentle on his nape. “_ Christ, Jongin, _you’re perfect.” He grits out when Jongin truly works at his cock harder, his mouth hot and wet for Kyungsoo as he chokes willingly at the girth in his throat, staying in place when the muscles on Kyungsoo’s belly shake with his building orgasm, keening at the praises Kyungsoo chants at him and his mouth before he’s arching up with a warning. 

“You’re gonna swallow, baby?” The older asks through the haze of budding rapture, groaning when Jongin nods and tongues around his tip before going down again. “_ Oh god, _I’m close, Jongin, baby—”

—

Jongin lets go of Kyungsoo’s cock after a few careful licks when the older man places a hand on his jaw to stop him as he shivers through the aftershocks. He also wipes away the tear tracks on Jongin’s cheeks as he catches his breath, wiping the saliva around Jongin’s lips with his thumb. 

“Go upstairs and clean yourself up baby,” Kyungsoo drawls when Jongin takes his thumb into his mouth and sucks on it, his eyes sparking up at the familiar request. “Consider it another gift for another job well done.” His words ring heavily in Jongin’s ears, whining around the implications of fulfilling the promises he made minutes earlier. 

“Are you going to eat me out, Daddy?” Jongin asks low against the skin of Kyungsoo’s thigh when he sucks a love bite at the paler skin. Kyungsoo straightens up, and Jongin can only stare at the ring between the hollow of his collarbones and the deep flush on his cheeks, eyes lingering around the red of older man’s swollen lips as he speaks. Jongin lets out a gasping breath when he and Kyungsoo meet eyes when his words finally, _ finally _sinks in. Suddenly, he’s standing up without any of the grace he possessed before, making his way up the stairs as fast as he can and flushing under the deep rumble of Kyungsoo’s amused laughter. 

“That and more, baby doll. I’m going to make you scream until the only thing you know is my name.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably will cease to remember this since I wrote this over the course of a day, and it honestly feels like a fever dream.
> 
> See y’all in 2021 for my next smut, for real this time. I’m off to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> This extremely self indulgent au had spiralled beyond my control from a mere conversation about wanting to get additional piercings, to this monstrosity. 
> 
> To E, who has been the void I have yelled to ever since we met on the camp out for planet #5 tickets, never have I expected for us to get along like a house on fire. May we never get tired of just sending Junmyeon pics/vids to each other.
> 
> To D, whose hoe energy has aided me tremendously in the abrupt plotting of this fic amid multiple class suspensions. Like a dumpster fire, you have let this au and I go on for far too long.
> 
> Here’s to hoping I’ve gotten this out of my system already. I also only write semi-graphic smut every two years, so see y'all in 2021. I tried to make it as saucy to the best of my abilities, but alas, it's only mildly saucy. 
> 
> Also, please don’t ask for more ha ha ha 
> 
> Come yell at my bird app: @the_conjongin


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